


Compulsion

by Arionrhod



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-17
Updated: 2009-07-18
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 55,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arionrhod/pseuds/Arionrhod
Summary: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion.  As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly.  Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?This story was written for the Snape/Lupin Fantasy Fest 2006 at the Lupin_Snape Livejournal Community.  Based on a prompted by Kaliedoskope - "Figure-skating AU. Both are extremely competitive in their own ways, extremely dominating. They have great asses and wear tights. Bonus for control kinks like BDSM".





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

"And now the marks for artistic impression. Five point nine... five point nine... five point nine.... five point nine... six point oh! That's it, he has enough - newcomer Remus Lupin takes first place in the British Nationals!"

Dark eyes watched as the sandy-haired man on the television circled the rink, a wide smile on his not-unattractive face as he held his arms over his head, acknowledging the cheering crowds. Flowers rained down around him, and he laughed and waved to his fans, obviously stunned with his success and delighted by it at the same time. There was an openness about him, and an odd light in his strange gold-topaz eyes, one that made Severus sneer in derision as he watched. 

_Yes, smile, damn you. Damn you to hell._

Severus scowled at the television, barely resisting the urge to throw his glass of bourbon at the screen, to blot out the sight of another's victory, a victory which by rights belonged to Severus. How much his life had changed in a year, and not for the better. One year ago it had been he who had circled the rink, he who had won the title, he who had been proclaimed the premiere skater in Britain. It had taken hard work, dedication, and most of all, his own ferocious talent, as he spent years training and rising through the ranks. It hadn't been easy, especially following in the wake of a legend like Robin Cousins, but Severus had been grimly determined to succeed. He had risen above his humble roots, his horrid childhood, and had become at long last the top skater in his country, a victory of which he had always dreamed. And then in the blink of an eye it had all been stripped away, torn apart because Severus had had the misfortune to pick a criminal for a coach.

The screen replayed Lupin's winning skate, but Severus didn't see it. Instead he stared down into his glass, frowning with impotent fury. 

_How could I have been so stupid? How could I not have seen what Malfoy was about?_

Severus' career had forever been rocky. As dedicated as he was, Severus had also demanded perfection from those around him, including his coach and choreographer. With a temper that matched the passionate fire of his skating - or so the papers had liked to report it - Severus had fired or been quit by a succession of coaches through the years, moving through them like so much flotsam in a storm as he sought the one who would truly _understand_ him. Skating coaches, or at least the good ones, were used to putting up with diva attitudes and temper tantrums from their artistic charges, but Severus had always been something quite beyond the norm. He had been called a bad boy by many, and a force of nature by others. Whichever the case, it had lead the temperamental young skater at last into the hands of Lucius Malfoy, who was not only a coach, but who had the money to give Severus his patronage.

Skating cost money, and until one reached the top of the profession, it didn't tend to generate any income. By the time Severus was twenty, he had been not only out another coach, but fast approaching financial ruin as well. He had fire, he had drive and talent, but he had been about to wash out from lack of sponsor or coach. When Lucius stepped into the breach, Severus had thought it was the answer to his prayers.

The two men had gotten along well enough, at least at first. In retrospect Severus could now see that he had been played for a fool from the beginning. Lucius had been looking to make a name for himself, to set himself up as a star coach, and he had needed a star pupil to make it happen. Severus had been that star, and had achieved recognition quickly, flourishing in what Severus had thought was the security of sound coaching and financial backing.

Then everything had changed overnight. All because Lucius Malfoy had gotten greedy. 

Not content to trust Severus' talent once the British Nationals were won, Lucius had decided to rig the odds in Severus' favor for the European championships. Lucius might have been a decent coach, but he had been a heinously inadequate conspirator in committing a felony. He had let two of his known goons - stupid, ignorant, and violent men - carry out a plot to injure Severus' main rival, Igor Bobrin of the Soviet Union. The only saving grace was that Crabbe and Goyle had not actually succeeded in injuring the other skater, who had, indeed, gone on to win the European title. But he had won it because Severus had been barred from competing, sent home in disgrace as the investigation of Malfoy had cast suspicion upon him as well.

In actuality Severus had known nothing of Malfoy's plans, and he had been not only shocked but absolutely infuriated by them. Severus had known he was good enough to beat Bobrin, but Malfoy's greed and arrogance had ruined his chances to prove it - had ruined Severus as well. The ISU had stepped in and banned Severus from competition while the investigation was being carried out. Severus had testified, had pleaded his innocence, but Malfoy, once caught, had implicated Severus without any consideration for the truth. Severus had never in his life hated anyone so much, nor ever wanted to kill anyone more than he had wanted to kill Lucius Malfoy.

With a snarl, Severus flung his glass across the room, not even watching as it hit the wall behind the television and shattered. Dark liquor ran down the faded wallpaper, but Severus didn't care. This dingy flat, this dismal life... it was so far removed from what he wanted, from what he'd _had_ only twelve brief months before. What this unknown, this upstart Lupin had now, rightfully belonged to Severus instead. 

It was bloody well not fair!

Standing up in disgust, Severus crossed to the television, unable to watch anymore. He flicked off the switch with suppressed violence, resisting the urge to jam his foot through the screen. It had been torture to watch, but he couldn't resist. Skating had been his life for too long, his hope, his dream... and now his whole world was crumbled to dust at his feet, leaving him with nothing. Not even hope.

Severus stared out the window of the flat, seeing the dismal November skies, leaden grey and lowering like his whole life. _Perhaps I should just end it. There is nothing left for me, after all. I can't skate, I can't coach, and I have no doubt when the final verdict comes out, I will be made into a scapegoat, a laughing-stock. Humiliated... I can't live like that. I want it all, and I will accept nothing less!_

A distant ringing impinged on his thoughts, and Severus looked away from the window as he realized it was his telephone. He frowned, wondering if someone were calling to gloat over Lupin's victory. Severus had no friends - he had never wanted or needed any - so it certainly wasn't someone calling to commiserate or to offer support or condolences. 

"Probably just another dunning call," Severus growled to himself, bitterness twisting his guts. He had bills to pay and no way to pay them, for every dime he had went to pay for rink time, still. He couldn't _not_ skate, after all. The only time he really felt alive anymore was when he was on the ice.

Despite his sureness of the call being just another bill collector, Severus crossed to the table, lifting up the receiver and pressing it to his ear.

"Hello." It wasn't a greeting, it was a challenge, but Severus didn't care how he sounded. So much the better if the person on the other end hung up and left him alone.

"Severus? Dear boy, is that you?" The voice on the other end was entirely too full of good humor, and Severus recognized it immediately.

"Of course it is me, you old fool," Severus snapped, not in the least bit caring to be toyed with. "What the hell do you want?" 

"Now, Severus, is that anyway to speak to a friend? Especially one who is trying to help you?" The man's tone was gently reproving, which only made Severus angrier.

"I have no friends, as you well know," he snapped. "And no one can help me."

"I can."

The two words were soft, and Severus froze, not daring to hope, or to believe.

"What is it, then?" he asked, trying to make his tone casual, but knowing that it was fraught with feeling, something the old man would immediately recognize.

"I have just received a call from the ISU. Courtesy, you know, as past president with an interest in the current dust-up. It seems that someone has spoken on your behalf, and the ISU reconsidered their opinion. On further examination of the evidence, and given that no criminal charges were ever sustained against you... they have decided to reinstate you."

There was a buzzing in Severus' ears, and he almost dropped the phone. It couldn't be... could it? Dare he believe that he would be allowed to compete again?

"What about NISA?" he heard his voice asking. Just because the International Skating Union said that Severus could compete, it wasn't a sure bet that the National Ice Skating Association, the British body that ran the Nationals, would allow Severus back into membership as well.

_I suppose I could move to another country... they might not be so picky in Bulgaria, or Albania, so long as they had a world class champion..._

"Leave NISA to me. I know them, they won't nay-say the ISU. No one does, you know."

Relief flooded through Severus, a relief he was almost frightened to acknowledge, if Severus was a man to even recognize fear. Instead he breathed deeply, his world rocking for the second time in a year, but this time in a good way.

_It is my chance. I have to take it. I'll show them... I'll show them all! I may not have any money, but nothing, **nothing** is going to stand in my way!_

There was silence on the line, and Severus realized that his caller was waiting for an answer. "Albus... I..." He couldn't go on. Even if Severus were used to expressing gratitude - which he was not - his throat had closed up.

"I understand," Albus Dumbledore, past President of the ISU, four-time British National Figure Skating Champion and Olympic gold medalist said, his elderly voice soft. "I've gone out on a bit of limb for you, my boy. Risked rather a lot it seems, most of which is my reputation. I know you won't let me down, though. Which is why I'm going to sponsor you as well."

Severus rocked back on his heels, stunned. "Sponsor me?" he repeated, knowing that he was parroting back the words, but his shock not allowing him to do much else. Dumbledore was going to pay for his training.

"Yes, yes of course," Albus said, voice kind but brisk. "I have to, you know. In for a penny, in for a pound, I always say. Might as well put my money where my loud old mouth is, right? Besides... I understand that young Lupin chap is being coached by Minnie McGonagall. She turned me down, back in the day. I wouldn't mind getting a bit of my own back on her. The little minx. Well, anyway... I'll send a check 'round directly, then. You'd best get on the ice, and I'll be up by Monday at the latest. You need a coach too, of course... I might as well go the whole distance and take you in hand. Must be off now, dear boy. Do try to stay out of trouble, won't you?"

"Yes."

There was a soft click on the end, but Severus thought he heard a chuckle just before the line went dead.

Damn Albus! Damn him and bless him. Severus wasn't quite sure why the old man had taken a liking to him, but he had done so years ago, when Severus had been only twelve and competing at the junior levels. Severus had been trying an axel at the rink, and he had almost run down a grey-bearded old man. With typical temper Severus had imperiously ordered the man out of his way, saying that he had no time for old fuddies standing in the way of him getting to the Olympics. Severus hadn't known at the time that the "old fuddy" had been an Olympic great himself, nor that Albus Dumbledore had taken a liking to him. But that liking seemed to be the thing saving Severus' career now.

Maybe it was even saving his life.

Dropping the phone back onto the cradle, Severus turned away, thoughts whirling. There was so much to do, so much to plan - music, choreography, costumes. The European Championships were only three months away, and Worlds were two months beyond that. Severus had missed them last year, but this year they were his. They _belonged_ to him by rights, and nothing was going to stand in his way.

Especially not a handsome, laughing-eyed wunderkind named Remus Lupin.


	2. Prologue

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the National Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

"Well done, Moony!"

A familiar voice calling out his nickname reached him in the press of people, and Remus turned his head in the direction of the door, smile widening as his best friend Sirius, followed by James and Lily, entered the flat. He excused himself from Lita, the woman who made his costumes, and slipped past his choreographer, then found himself enveloped in a three-way, bear-like hug as first Sirius, then James wrapped their arms around him.

"Can't breathe!" Remus gasped, laughing and squirming as the two taller and brawnier men sandwiched him. "Help! Lily!"

"Always having Lily fight your battles, eh?" Sirius asked, stepping back with a wince as Lily punched his arm. She popped James, her husband, on the head for good measure, and Remus drew in a deep breath as the squeezing ended.

"When I'm outnumbered by two great louts like you, I'll take any help I can get!" Remus replied, chuckling with affection as he reached out to tousle James' messy hair. Then he turned to the pretty, red-haired Lily, putting his arms around her and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Thank you, Milady. If you hadn't gotten them off me, no doubt I'd be squashed to death and Minerva's dreams of Olympic gold would be expiring with me."

"Well we can't have that," Lily replied, hugging Remus in return, then stepping back into the circle of James' arms with a smile. "Not to mention we'd miss you... especially Harry - what would he do without his 'Unca Weemus'?"

"I'm sure I don't know," Remus said. "Look, why don't we..."

"Celebrate? Excellent idea - where are the drinks? God, Remus, who are all these people? You're going to have to get a bigger flat if you're going to keep winning things." Sirius' smile was warm, and he put a friendly arm around Remus' shoulders, then maneuvered them through the press of people, James and Lily following in their wake. 

"How did the game go?" Remus asked as they walked. James and Sirius played hockey for the Durham Wasps, a team in the newly formed national-level hockey league. Both men had played in regional leagues since the three - well, four, if you counted Lily - had left school, and both had been smugly pleased with the creation of a single British League. James and Sirius had been hockey-mad for years, having grown up as neighbors and playing on the same teams as youths. The two of them had met up with Lily and Remus, both of them figure skaters coached by irascible Minerva McGonagall, their very first week at University. 

"We won, of course," Sirius said complacently. "No doubt of that, you know! James was brilliant, as usual, but I got one goal, and an assist on another. We've got a winning record!"

"Excellent!" Remus replied, grinning at Sirius as they reached the table where assorted bottles and glasses were arranged haphazardly along with bowls of nuts and crisps and a diminished tray of cheese straws. Remus hadn't planned on winning - he was still rather stunned about it, in fact - and the press of people who had somehow seemed to show up at his flat to celebrate his victory found him ill-prepared to host a victory celebration. Some food and no small amount of alcohol had seemed to materialize with the guests, however, and Sirius looked over the offerings with a critical eye, before pouring out four glasses and passing them around.

"A toast to Remus!" James said, his brown eyes alight with pleasure and pride for his friend.

"How about to all of us?" Remus hastily interjected, finding himself rather tired of being the center of attention, glad just to have his friends with him. "You have a victory, too, after all. And Lily... Lily puts up with all of us."

"To all of us, then - winners every one!" Sirius agreed readily. 

They clanked together the plastic glasses, laughing as the champagne sloshed over the rims. It was a good moment; the every best, in Remus' opinion. Victory was a heady sensation, but it hadn't been complete for him, not really, until now, when he saw his friends looking at him with love and pride in their eyes.

Winning did mean anything if you didn't have someone with whom to share it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few hours later, quiet finally returned to Remus' flat. The guests had gone, James and Lily were cuddling on the couch, and Sirius had sprawled across the most comfortable chair, legs dangling over one padded arm and shoulders slouched against the other. Remus sat on the floor, back against Sirius' chair, head leaning against Sirius' hip. It was a very normal tableau for the four of them, regardless of whose house they were at, except for the clutter that had been left in the wake of the party. Plastic cups, paper plates and crumpled napkins littered every surface and overflowed the one inadequate rubbish bin in piles on the floor. It was chaotic, but the mood was peaceful and Remus was loathe to break one of the increasingly rare moments of rapport the four of them were able to share in order to do anything so mundane as tidying up.

"What's next, then?" Sirius asked, smacking Remus lightly on the top of the head. Remus couldn't see his friend's face, but he didn't need to in order to imagine the look of lazy inquiry he was certain Sirius wore.

"An exhibition skate in two weeks," Remus said, brow creasing in a tiny frown as he thought about the changes he wanted to make to his program before then. Some elements needed tweaking, and he needed to polish his triple axel....

"Earth to Remus!" James laughed, kicking Remus lightly on the knee. "I know you are totally focused when you skate, but you aren't on the ice now!"

"Sorry," Remus replied, flushing. 

"It's not your... er, problem?" Lily asked softly, her green eyes full of concern. "You've not had any difficulty?"

"None." Remus gave a small, tight smile, grateful for Lily's concern, but not wanting to think about his problems, not now. He purposely relaxed, letting his smile become more natural to show Lily he wasn't upset. "Say, if any of you want tickets to the exhibition, I can get them for you. What do you think, Lily? Would Harry like to watch?"

"What, are you trying to turn my son into an effeminate figure skater?" James asked, eyes twinkling as he teased. "Let him watch dolled-up boys in tights and spangles flitting about the ice like butterflies? No, he's going to play hockey, like his Da and godfather!"

Remus snorted. "You were glad enough that Lily was an effeminate figure skater!" he chided.

"That's different, she's a _girl_. Want to prove to us that you aren't?"

A good-natured retort was on Remus' lips - this was an old joke between them, given that his friends knew Remus' secrets, all of them - but before he could speak there was a sharp rap at the door.

"Who in the world?" Remus asked no one in particular, before giving a sigh and rising to his feet. "The neighbors can't be complaining about the noise, everyone's gone..."

Crossing to the door, Remus was aware of his friend's eyes following him. He looked out the spy eye into the corridor, then drew in a breath of surprise before unlatching the door and pulling it open.

"Minerva! What are you doing back, did you forget something? You left hours ago!"

Stepping back, Remus allowed Minerva to enter the flat, noting with concern that her face was lined with fatigue. The grey-haired coach was sixty if she was a day, and Remus had been worried about her for some time - about the strain coaching placed on her, now that she was no longer a young woman. He was the only one she was training - had been since Lily chose marriage and motherhood to skating - but still, the hours of work, the pressure... he wondered if perhaps it was too much for her.

Yet she had been very proud of his triumph, and he had seen tears in her faded blue eyes for the only time in all the years he had known her as she watched him circle the ice after his win. She had, however, excused herself from the party rather early, and Remus had encouraged her to go to her own flat just downstairs and rest. He loved Minerva like a mother - especially since his own had died while he was a teen - and he definitely credited his success to her talent and care. 

"I won't stay but a moment," she said, glancing around at others and giving a brief nod rather than her normal smile. Her eyes did soften when they rested on Lily, but then she turned her attention back to Remus. "I received a phone call. From a... friend. You need to know... Severus Snape has been reinstated by the ISU."

"What?!?"

The exclamation came from all four listeners simultaneously, and might have been humorous under any other circumstances.

"But... how? Why?" Remus asked, recovering before the others. A quick look around showed his own stunned surprise reflected on their faces. Severus Snape, suspended for suspected collusion in a plot to injure another skater - it had been a scandal that had rocked the skating world, raising questions about just how far someone would go in order to be considered the best. The primary blame for the incident seemed to rest with Snape's coach, Lucius Malfoy, who had been a rich social climber of the first order. Remus had felt sorry for Malfoy's wife, and especially for his child, a boy the same age as Harry. He was too young to understand that his father was a criminal, but Remus knew all too well that, no matter what the cause, a child would feel the absence of a parent keenly.

"Apparently he has... friends. Since there was no direct evidence that he knew - nor that he didn't know, for that matter - the Union has decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He appears to have a champion."

Minerva's voice carried a note of coldness, and Remus looked at her closely. There was something more to her anger, something beyond an impersonal distaste for someone who, by all accounts, had been all for doing something unspeakable to a rival solely in the name of victory. There was emotion there, deep and old, but Remus didn't know where it came from, or why - and now was definitely not the time to ask.

"Well isn't that just bloody great!" Sirius spat, moving from his indolent position and springing to his feet. "That git... he's evil, pure poison if you know what I mean! Despicable! And they are going to let him back into competition? What if he comes after Remus next? After all, Remus is the new champion, and he will stand in the way now!"

"I don't think..." "Sirius! Really, you mustn't say such things!" "I don't know..."

Everyone spoke at once, then strangely fell silent at the same time, and Remus looked at Minerva, his expression pensive. "What do you think, Minerva? What does this change? What can we do?"

At the question Minerva straightened, and Remus saw a glint of purpose in her eyes. It was easy to forget, after seeing her so tired, that this woman had once been a champion herself, and she had the discipline and knowledge to have trained some of the best skaters in the world. He saw it now, however, as her jaw grew hard and determined, and her voice took on a tone of pride and command.

"What do you think, Lupin? We'll do what we always do - work our arses off and spit in their eyes... and beat _their_ arses in the process!" 

The cheers that rose at _that_ statement really did cause the neighbors to complain.


	3. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the National Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

Remus was lost in sound and movement.

It had always been this way, ever since the very first day that Remus had stepped on the ice as a young boy, and his breath had left him in a laugh of pure, innocent delight. Time and location became meaningless, all outside distractions fading to nothing as he became solely focused on the way his movements moulded and shaped to the song. Using line and form, leap, spin and jump, he interpreted the very notes of the music to bring it into the physical realm. The beat became the rhythm of his heart, the melody transmuted to the smooth, graceful motions of his body, accompanied by the soft swish and clack of metal on frozen water and the sound of his own breath. To Remus it was sublime, Nirvana, the closest he could ever come to being able to make love to a piece of music.

The judges and skating commentators had applauded his artistry, calling him inspired, claiming that he was unmatched, a worthy heir to the previous British champion, Robin Cousins. Joy seemed to radiate from Remus with each stroke of his blades, the dreamy smile on his lips not there for the audience, but as an expression of his love for what he did. Poetry in motion, they said; athlete and artist rolled into one.

What they didn't say, and didn't need to say, was that Remus Lupin was the precise opposite of Severus Snape.

Snape was passion, all fiery aggression and suppressed fury bundled into one and then poised on nine inches of knife-sharp steel. He defied gravity with his leaps, his movements were a blatant, provocative challenge, flung in the faces of his audience as both taunt and insult. His music was harsh, often discordant, spurning convention and pushing the envelope. He was strength and theatrics, and that very sense of drama was what the reporters claimed had finally caught up with him in the end.. 

Remus wasn't thinking about his newly reinstated rival, however, as he pushed his body toward an elusive state of perfection. Sometimes he had the fanciful thought that if he were ever to reach Nirvana, it would be on the ice, where he would become one with his dreams and suddenly fly, no longer bound by a physical body. The sonata playing over the speakers absorbed him, the delicate notes known to him by heart, guiding him as he wove his way across the ice. He closed his eyes, hurling himself into the double axel, and that was when it happened... he became aware of someone watching him.

Startled by the odd sensation - the rink was full of people, but he hadn't noticed anyone till that moment - Remus lost his focus, something that he had never done before. He two-footed the landing of the jump, then wobbled ungracefully as his feet seemed to tangle together. Finally he managed to stop himself, throwing up a small flurry of shavings as his blades dug into the ice. He drew in a deep breath and turned, his gaze zeroing in on a dark figure who stood outside the boards, watching him with fathomless black eyes.

Severus Snape.

Remus had never met the man, not formally at least, but nevertheless recognized him instantly. They had skated in some of the same events the previous year, the first year Remus had competed at a national level. As a unproven newcomer Remus hadn't moved in the same circles as Snape, who had come in second to Cousins the previous year and was touted as the favorite for the national title, and so he had never even been in any of Snape's groups even for a warm up. In fact, this was as close as Remus had ever been to the man who now faced him across the width of the ice.

Dark eyes met Remus' and Remus gazed back, not in challenge but in curiosity. Snape was tall, taller than Remus, and his black spandex practice outfit clung to him, emphasizing the length and slender musculature of his legs. He was thinner than Remus had thought he would be, too, nevertheless he still seemed to radiate a strength, an aura of energy barely held in check. There was also a scowl on his face, and Remus drew himself erect, not able to resist answering the glitter of derision in those eyes with a tilted-chin expression of pride.

_Start as you mean to go on_ , Minerva had always told him, and Remus clamped down on an unaccustomed desire to glare back in return. Hostility to his main rival - a man who had held Remus' title but a year before - wouldn't do him any good in the long run. He was going to have to deal with Snape far too often if the man was back in competition, and there was no point in raising bad feelings between them just because Snape suddenly made Remus want to push him back against the boards and remove the sneer from those thin lips with a fierce kiss....

_Wait a minute... where did **that** come from?_

Schooling his face into a polite smile, Remus turned away, ignoring the undeniable pull he felt toward the other man. That Snape was an incredible jumper, that he had athleticism far in excess of what one would think from the build of his rangy body, were things Remus had known from watching the man on the ice from a distance. What hadn't been quite as obvious until experienced up-close was the charisma Snape radiated so strongly, capturing his attention and drawing Remus' attention like a magnet.

Heart racing, Remus pushed off and glided toward the side of the rink where Minerva leaned, watching him with an expression of surprise and concern. As Remus drew up she gazed over his shoulder, her glare at Snape ferocious before looking back at Remus with dismay.

"What happened out there? I've seen you stumble on a jump, even fall, but I've never seen you break concentration like that!"

Flushed, Remus shrugged, leaning down to make an unnecessary adjustment to one of his skates in order to avoid the sharp inquiry in Minerva's eyes. After a moment he straightened, blinking innocently. "I think I caught a flash of black as he came into the rink... it distracted me. Sorry, Minerva, it won't happen again."

"Balderdash," Minerva replied roundly, frowning at him. "You jump with your eyes closed, you always have."

Swallowing, Remus shrugged again, weakly. "I don't know. I felt him watching me, I suppose. I wasn't expecting anyone - isn't it still my ice time?"

Minerva glanced at her watch, then shrugged. "You had another minute or two, depending on whose watch you care to use." She paused, frowning. "I didn't know he was going to be training here."

"Neither did I." Remus sighed, resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder to see if Snape was still watching him. He didn't have to look, anyway - he could feel the force of that intense regard, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. It was not a comfortable sensation, and Remus wasn't certain that he liked it at all. Maybe it was just a figment of his imagination; he was starting to feel a bit lightheaded and realized that he had possibly pushed himself a bit too hard during this practice.

Minerva noticed that Remus had gone pale. "Off the ice, now," she said, jerking her head toward the opening at the side of the rink, all thoughts of Snape gone as her protective instincts took over. She spared Remus one last stern glance, then moved quickly to where she could meet him.

Nodding, Remus drew in a deep breath, swiping a hand across his damp brow. He didn't have to look to know that his fingers were trembling, and he turned, moving with swift, sharp strokes toward the exit, focusing on that rather than on the sudden sickness which was curling in the pit of his stomach. 

All Remus could think of was getting out, so he didn't hear the sound of someone skating up to him, not until a deep voice, low with suppressed mockery, came from close behind.

"If that's how you land your jumps, I'm not at all worried about getting my title back," Snape drawled, then flashed past before Remus could even blink, a blur of black against the stark white ice. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, not even knowing what he would have said to that blatant insult. His mind was slowing as it always did, his thoughts blurring, and so he swallowed and turned away, clenching his jaw against both nausea and impotent anger. 

Stepping out of the rink, Remus took the bottle of sports drink Minerva held out to him, gulping it down quickly. He closed his eyes, breathing shallowly until he felt the sick feeling pass. He hated it, but there was nothing he could do except deal with it and move on. It was a problem, but one he could manage; or that's what he told himself, a litany he recited privately every time it happened.

Finally his strength began to return, the trembling of his hands slackening off, and he opened his eyes once more, giving Minerva a wan smile. "Thanks. I'm better now."

Blue eyes searched his face before Minerva nodded abruptly, taking the empty bottle from him and offering him his blade covers in its place. "You know the drill... cool down a bit. Then eat. A real meal, too, not a snack." She waited for Remus' nod, then tilted her head, her gaze full of a different kind of concern, mixed with indignation. "Whatever did Snape say to you? Nothing threatening, I hope - if he did, I'll have words with that coach of his, I promise you that!"

Remus couldn't help glancing back, watching for a moment as the black-clad form glided over the ice, warming up. Then he tore his eyes away, meeting Minerva's eyes once more, lips curving in a lopsided smile.

"Nothing but a lie, Minerva. He might not think so, of course, but I know it was nothing but a lie."


	4. Chapter 3

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the National Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

"You're going to have to do better than that, my boy."

Severus glanced over at the white-bearded old man in the unraveling cream jumper, scowling as he tightened the laces of his skates. Mild blue eyes looked back over half-moon glasses, unperturbed by the thunderous expression on Severus' face.

"Do you think I don't know that, old man?" Severus replied, voice harsh.

"I know you do, but it bears repeating," Albus said quietly. He reached out with one bony finger, poking at Severus' upper arm. "Your strength is diminished, you're too thin. European Championships are in two months. If you expect to compete, you're going to have to work harder than you've ever worked in your life."

Severus stood, glaring down at his coach, back stiff with pride. "Damn it, Albus! This was your idea, and you offered - I didn't come begging to you, you bloody do-gooder! If you think I can't do it, then why are you bothering to coach me, to fund my training?"

Albus rose to his feet, facing Severus with a slight smile. "I do believe you can do it, dear boy. But that doesn't matter a whit if _you_ don't believe it. You're skating as though you are afraid of the ice... well, are you?"

"NO!" 

Severus spat the word, even though a part of him realized that Albus was at least partially right. For all his taunting of Lupin, Severus had to admit the man was very, very good. Severus had kept up his training during his suspension, but without the pressures of competition it was almost inevitable that he had lost a certain edge. Albus had also been right about Severus' weight; stress had a damned annoying way of ruining his appetite.

With a final glare, he turned his back on Albus and stalked off toward the ice, the effect slightly marred by the awkward gait required to balance on blades on the floor. His stiffly erect carriage got the point across, however, and it was probably just as well that Severus missed the twinkle in the old man's blue eyes as he watched.

At the edge of the ice Severus stripped off his blade guards, tossing them on a bench and stepping out onto the ice, hands on hips, eyes on the ground as he navigated around the oval rink. After a few moments he took in a deep breath, pushing his irritation out of his mind and focusing his attention on the ice and his own body.

Several minutes later he was sufficiently warmed up, and Albus called to him to practice his compulsory figures. With an abrupt nod Severus set to it, the movements ingrained after so many years. Still he had to focus, watching the tips of his skates as he traced the patterns on the ice. It was an exercise in concentration, and by the time he finished he was dripping sweat. He skated to the edge of the rink, taking the towel and the cup of water that Albus offered him obligingly.

When he had rested, Albus talked him through a series of practice jumps, axels and lutzes, salchows and toe loops. Severus loved to skate, assuredly, but more than anything he loved the jumps, the feeling of throwing his body into the air with strength and control, of landing perfectly, challenging himself each time to do it more perfectly than the last. Severus had always been known for his jumping, and that was fine with him; he often thought of the spinning and gliding during a program as no more than filler between the ecstatic intervals where he could hurl himself into the air, hearing the gasps of awe and thunderous applause as the audience reacted to each breathtaking feat.

A short breather and a consultation with Albus lead up to Severus practicing his short program. There wasn't time to come up with something new, so Severus was skating his program from the previous year, with a few changes suggested by his choreographer.

The pounding beat of the music began, and Severus launched himself into the routine with a burst of speed, blades flashing over the ice as he built momentum for his first jump. Swish and turn and then he was flying through the air, body rotating in a blur of motion. He landed lightly, one leg sweeping out behind him before he whirled and went charging across the ice again, readying himself for the next jump.

Two minutes later it was done, and Severus stood panting on the ice, eyes glittering with satisfaction. He skated to the side of the rink, giving Albus a smug smile. "Well, old man? Did I work hard enough for you?" Severus watched his coach nod briefly, but he didn't care for the seriousness of Albus' expression; the scowl came back with a vengeance. "What is it, then? That performance was flawless!"

"It was... what it was," Albus replied obscurely, then held up a hand when Severus would have retorted hotly. "Hear me out. There is no doubt that you are one of the greatest skaters the sport has ever seen. Technically, that is. Your jumps are flawless, your set-ups are graceful. But... there is something missing. I don't have to tell you what it is."

Severus stared at the old man, then almost spat the word. " _Artistry_."

"Do you disdain it so much, then?"

The soft question brought Severus up short, but he didn't lose his frown. "I am an athlete, and athletes jump. The judges and audience love what I do!"

"Do you?"

This time Severus looked surprised, then thoughtful. "Yes... so then why do you think I need to change?"

Albus smiled somewhat craftily. "You must remember you are skating not just against yourself, but against your opponents. Last year your jumps were all the rage, so perfect and so unexpected that you carried the day. This year, however... the tides have changed. Think, Severus... what does Lupin do that you do not? What about his skating appeals to the judges so strongly that he is heralded as being the successor to Cousins... not you?"

His coach had a point, but Severus didn't much care for it. "You want me to change the program. To put in the flourishes and gestures and such?"

"No." Albus touched Severus on the arm. "What he has isn't just artistry, it's absorption. He's not performing like a circus clown to the 'oohs' and 'aaahs' of the audience, he's performing in the manner of a concert musician, so focused on wringing out every nuance and emotion that he doesn't even _see_ his audience. To you the music, the artistry, is no more important than your costume - a mere embellishment. Lupin _is_ the music, the movement. If you are to beat him, you must learn to do what he does by instinct."

"What?" Severus made a rude gesture, agitated for reasons he couldn't quite fathom. "Is _that_ what you wish me to do instead of jumping? Feel the music? God, Albus, you've gone daft. Next you'll be telling me that I must bewitch their minds and ensnare their senses or some such rot."

Blue eyes gleamed, and Severus' heart sank, even before Albus opened his mouth to speak.

" _That_ , dear boy, is precisely what you _must_ do. I like it." The old man paused, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "And I know just how to start."

Severus' eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How is that... and why do I think I won't like the answer?"

"How does one ever learn? By watching a master, right? You'll learn by watching Lupin skate."

Severus had been right. He didn't like the answer at all.

Turning from Albus with a snarl, Severus skated off across the rink, mind in a whirl. He knew his own skating was technically perfect, that no judge could find fault with his jumps or with his consistency. Last year they had called him an athlete's athlete, and this year suddenly it was all about _art_? 

A snort of derision escaped Severus, but at the same time, deep down, he knew Albus - and the commentators - had a point. Severus made skating a spectacle, a gymnastic feat, a triumph of the human body over gravity. Lupin did that, perhaps not as well, but he did more. As little as he liked to admit it, even to himself, Lupin had something that Severus lacked. He made a _connection_ with the audience without even trying, and that could be enough to give him the edge to beat Severus. And Severus did not like to lose.

He continued around the rink, building speed, trying to lose the bitter frustration of knowing he might not be the best. It rankled and stung, opening a well of resentment in Severus toward his opponent. Lupin had no right to step in and take what had belonged to Severus. No one would have heard of Lupin if Lucius Malfoy hadn't been so stupid! Severus would have won the European title, and the World Championship, and spent several years at the top of his game, rather than suddenly being the underdog... and not even the popularly favored underdog at that.

As he whirled around the ice, Severus happened to glance to one side, noticing that Lupin had entered the rink. Black eyes met gold, and Severus scowled. He might have to do what Albus said in order to win, but he bloody well wasn't going to enjoy it, or let the old man forget. 

Severus flashed past Lupin, giving an arctic smile to his opponent. Just for the hell of it, he spun, skating backwards so that he could watch Lupin. The other man gazed back, face bland as though Severus didn't bother him one bit, and Severus felt the reckless urge to wipe that expression off his face. Without even thinking he reached back with one leg, setting up, then thrust his toe pick into the ice, the forward momentum acting like a springboard as he hurled his body into the air in a triple axel, one of the most difficult jumps in the skater's repertoire. Tucking in his arms, Severus felt a savage joy, a release as he spun, once, twice, three times, then landed lightly on one foot, then turning so that he could see how Lupin liked _that_.

Unfortunately, however, he had misjudged his position; forward momentum carried him into the boards at the side of the rink, causing him to impact with all the residual speed left after his jump.

Gasping with shock as the hard edge impacted his sternum, Severus rebounded, skates clattering on the ice as he ricocheted back, arms windmilling as he tried to keep his balance. He had excellent reflexes and an almost cat-like grace, but it wasn't enough to keep him from falling hard, hip and shoulder impacting the ice as he fell. There was silence in the aftermath, in which Severus could clearly hear his own pained gasps to draw air into his shocked lungs, and the pounding of his heart.

Severus was stunned by the double impact, but before he had time to haul himself up Lupin was on the ice beside him, kneeling down and grasping Severus' hand in a firm grip and laying his other hand on Severus' shoulder. 

"Lie still," Lupin said, his voice surprisingly deep and remarkably gentle. "Don't try to get up, that was a nasty spill and you might have broken something."

Blinking in shock, Severus turned his head, looking up into Lupin's face from a distance of only a few inches. Lupin was so close that Severus could see tiny flecks of green in his strange topaz eyes, see the beginnings of grey flecking the sandy hair at Lupin's temple. A tingle shot up his arm from where Lupin's hand grasped his, an oddly pleasant sensation given the pain in Severus' abdomen, shoulder, and hip. It took him a moment to realize that Lupin was staring down at him, frowning, with an expression that looked remarkably like concern on his face. Seeing that was enough to pull Severus out of his shock, and he yanked his hand from Lupin's grasp.

Eyes narrowed, Severus glared as his pride and anger reared up, fueled by a goodly surge of plain embarrassment. Severus hated to look the fool, and all his rage at himself he eagerly turned upon his would-be rescuer. "Let me go and get away!" he hissed, flushing crimson with fury, feeling a vein begin to throb at his temple with the force of his fury. "I don't need any mealy mouthed, talentless _rookie_ telling _me_ what to do!"

Lupin reared back as though Severus had slapped him, rising to his feet in a smooth motion and propelling himself backwards on his skates as though Severus' words were a poison he was trying to escape. His face was white, his eyes clouded over for a moment in something that looked strangely like hurt, before a shutter seemed to slam down over Lupin's features. He gazed at Severus for a moment longer, expression unreadable, then turned and skated off without another word.

"That was incredibly rude, even for you," Albus said, and Severus turned his head away from the sight of Lupin's retreating form to glare at his coach. He hadn't even been aware of Albus' arrival, and for some reason that angered him all the more.

"I don't care. Move, old man, so that I can get up."

Albus looked about to protest, but then seemed to change his mind. He gave a curt nod, moving back and watching as Severus rolled himself to one side, then pushed himself up on his knees. Through sheer determination Severus gained his feet, drawing in a deep breath and wincing slightly. It _had_ been a bad spill, but Severus would rather die than admit it.

"I assume you'll let me know if anything is broken," Albus said quietly, his expression so neutral that Severus knew the old man was extremely disappointed in him. That, and the fact that Albus wasn't insisting he go to the doctor at once told Severus that, perhaps, he really had overstepped himself this time. "Your practice time is up for today anyway."

Albus started off across the ice, and for one moment Severus had the mad notion to call him back and apologize. He could even face voicing his regret to his coach, but he knew that Albus had no desire to hear it. The old man would probably tell Severus to apologize to Lupin, and Severus would die a million deaths before he would do that.

Making his way to the side of the rink, Severus glanced over, seeing Lupin adjusting his skates in preparation for his own practice. Lupin was carefully not looking in his direction, and Severus suddenly wanted to call out to him, to force the other man to acknowledge his existence. But that was sheer idiocy, and with a snort of disgust, Severus stepped off the ice, snatching up his skate guards and moving toward the locker rooms, his hobbled gait as natural as he could make it to hide his pain. He didn't care what Lupin thought, after all. He had to beat the man, and he would.

No matter what the cost.


	5. Chapter 4

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

"If you tie that lace any tighter, it will snap. Either that or you'll cut off circulation in your foot, and then where would you be?"

Remus glanced up from his skate, offering Minerva a lopsided smile in response to her dry comment. "Sorry. I'm fidgeting, aren't I?"

"Perhaps a little," Minerva said, sinking down on the bench beside Remus and placing a motherly hand on his arm. "Shouldn't you be going over your program rather than attacking innocent laces? You skate in about fifteen minutes."

"Probably." Remus gave a slight shrug, and then sighed. "I guess I'm a bit nervous, to be honest."

"You, nervous?" Minerva said, her faded blue eyes widening in surprise. "Are you feeling all right? You've never been nervous before a performance before. Is it because you're the champion now, and expected to do well? It's perfectly understandable to feel pressure now that you have a title to uphold."

"Actually, it's not that," he replied, looking a bit sheepish. "It's, um... Snape."

"Snape?" Minerva's brows immediately drew down into a fierce frown. "Has he bothered you? If he has, I'll give that senile old coach of his a piece of my mind!"

The protective expression on Minerva's face made Remus smile, reminding him as it did of a mother cat, fur bristling and fangs bared in a hiss as she defended her kitten. "No. It's just... he _watches_ me all the time. My practices, I mean. It's like he's studying me, or sizing me up or something." He gave an uncomfortable chuckle. "Sometimes I feel like a mouse being confronted by a snake who's about to eat him."

"I'd noticed him there," Minerva responded, giving Remus a curious glance. "I believe he's trying to figure out your secrets. But normally you don't notice people in the rink, even though you know people are coming and going all the time. Why him? Why does he bother you specifically?"

"That's just it... I don't know." 

It was the truth, a truth that had gnawed at Remus for the last two weeks. Remus, who had ever been oblivious to his audience, could feel Snape's dark eyes on him almost as directly as a touch. It was distracting, and Remus didn't like it, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about it short of shifting his practice times constantly, which would play havoc with his training, not to mention complicating other things. There was also the fact that if Remus let Snape _see_ that it bothered him, it would give Snape a psychological edge, one that Remus couldn't afford to let him have.

Apparently Minerva's thoughts were in a similar vein, because she sighed gustily. "Not much we can do, really, that wouldn't give him some satisfaction in knowing he had rattled you," she said. "You'll just have to ignore him."

"I'm trying. Believe me, Minerva, I'm trying."

Remus _had_ been trying to ignore it, and he had been working extra hard to not let it affect his performance. Apparently he had done well enough that Minerva hadn't noticed, although she _had_ given him a few sharp comments about his timing. Really, Remus didn't know why Snape watching him bothered him so.

_Yes, you do. But you're just not going to admit it, even to yourself._

Remus bit his lip in order to keep the words from bursting out. He didn't really want to think about the fact that he was physically attracted to the man who was trying to beat him, who seemed determined to try to drive him crazy. Being gay... well, that was just another of Remus' secrets, one that only Lily knew. It was easy enough to brush off his lack of a girlfriend to James and Sirius by pointing out that his training, unlike theirs, was something that took up the vast majority of his day, leaving him with little time or energy for a girlfriend. Once Sirius had laughed at that, giving Remus a bit more penetrating of a look than Remus had liked, but Remus hadn't taken the opportunity to enlighten him on any further reasons. James and Sirius were such manly men, and they already kidded Remus about his "girly career". It wouldn't do to let them know that their observations on the high number of gay men in figure skating included one person slightly closer to their hearts.

Of course, there was no guarantee that Snape was gay to begin with, and he certainly didn't give any indication of being attracted to Remus in turn. Remus was certain that the watching was purely to rattle him, or perhaps to gauge how much of a threat Remus was. But two weeks of it was enough to leave Remus a bit rattled, his imagination working overtime.

_Having been celibate for a good long while is probably contributing to it, too. I'm just letting some idiotic fancy distract me, and that is going to cost me the win. That can't happen. I can't let it, not for anything. Besides, he's a bastard, too, the kind you might want to shag but you could never hold a conversation with him. He rebuffed me roundly enough for trying to help him, too. It's just that he looks good, watching him on the ice, how he moves... And watching him watch me..._

"Wake up, it's time," Minerva said, touching Remus' arm and giving him a shake. He looked at her, seeing concern in her eyes. "Do you need more..."

"No," he said, giving her a quick, reassuring smile. "It's not that. Just puzzling about Snape, is all. I hope he's too preoccupied with his own program to watch me perform tonight."

"Don't let him get to you," Minerva replied, arching a brow. "You have to think of your career. Two years until the next Olympics, and what you do now will affect your chances of getting there. That's what you want, right? That's what all of this hard work and sacrifice is about. Especially for you."

"Yes." 

Remus' tone was firmer, as he let Minerva's words ground and center him. He had worked too hard for too long, and had entirely too much to prove to allow a fleeting physical attraction distract him from his purpose. If his chosen path was sometimes a lonely one... well, that was the price he paid for excellence. He had been paying it for years, and couldn't allow himself to stop now.

Rising to his feet, Remus looked down at his coach, giving her a reassuring smile before bending and planting a swift kiss on her soft, wrinkled cheek. He suspected that Minerva knew as well as he did what his problem was, but he blessed her for her kindness in sparing his tender feelings, such as they were. She was the toughest woman Remus had ever known, but she was, under her tart exterior and stern school-teacher airs, also one of the most loving. Remus counted himself very lucky that she had agreed to act as coach and surrogate family to him all these years. He owed it as much to her as to himself to bring home that elusive piece of gold that would vindicate all the time, money, blood, sweat, and tears that went into creating an Olympic champion.

"Time I was about my job," Remus said, smiling at the brief hint of softness in Minerva's eyes, before her expression became prim once more. "No actor can possibly work so hard for so little time on the stage."

"Just see that every second counts," Minerva replied. "This is serious, Remus. There will be comparisons, it can't be helped. It's your job to make certain that you are the one viewed in the favorable light."

"So it is," he replied. He drew himself up, smoothing his hands over his costume, then gave her a regal, haughty look. "The peacock is ready to spread his fan."

"Oh, go on with you," Minerva grumbled, standing a giving him a small push toward the door. "Anyone less like a peacock it is hard to imagine."

Remus only chuckled, then duck-footed his way toward the ice and his waiting audience. This was only an exhibition skate, a charity fundraiser, but it was an important performance for him, being the first time he would skate in public since winning the Nationals. Important, too, because it was Snape's as well. Since there would be no scoring, Remus could relax and enjoy himself completely, without feeling as though he had to win. This would be fun, and he could lose himself in the music without having to worry about anyone being critical of his jumps. 

There was a cheer from the fans on his side as he came along the base of the rink, and he smiled and waved. This caused even more cheers, and he heard the announcer blaring his introduction over the speakers. Quickly removing his guards, he passed them to Minerva, then took a deep breath.

"Showtime," he murmured, then smiled at her as she shooed him out onto the ice.

"And here he is, 1982 National Champion Remus Lupin, skating to... _Tequila!_ " 

One of the joys of exhibition skating, besides the loss of the pressure of being judged, was the fact that one could have a good time with it, choosing music and costumes that were more playful, different from the ones used in competition. Remus loved skating to his lyrical pieces, but he also had a fondness for more upbeat music. He couldn't lose himself in it quite the way that he could in Beethoven, but it was fun.

His costume was nothing more than black tights, a garishly green shirt with pink flamingoes dotted on it, and a straw hat that Minerva had jammed on his head. Remus grinned, letting the music take him as he spun and pranced and did the simple jumps, deliberately dropping his hat upon the ice then scooping it up and using it as a prop in his hands. He was always a bit more aware of the audience during a performance like this, and as he skated he tried not to let himself regret that he _didn't_ feel a pair of dark eyes watching him with a penetrating stare from somewhere up in the stands.

With a final spin it was over, and Remus perched the hat back on his head before giving the audience a mock-drunken bow. Thunderous applause crashed down over him, and Remus waved and smiled, his heart pounding with exhilaration to know that he had pleased his audience.

He circled the ice, playfully imitating inebriation, then stepped off where Minerva stood, holding out his guards. It took only a moment to place them on his blades, and he was more gratified by Minerva's brief "well done" than the flowers and stuffed animals that had rained down on the ice, now being picked up by a number of small children on skates.

Accepting a sports drink from Minerva - although he didn't need it as badly as he did after competition, Remus sank down on one of the bleacher seats, catching his breath. The children who had gathered up the tribute his fans had thrown on the ice came up to lay it all at his feet, and he smiled, thanking them, even though he found it somewhat embarrassing. He'd ask Minerva to give the toys to a charity later.

Minerva was next to him, and the lights lowered as the next skater approached the ice. Remus knew who it was, of course, but he was surprised when only a sketchy smattering of applause greeted Snape's arrival. Craning forward, Remus watched as Snape skated to the center of the rink, then drew in a breath.

Snape had disdained any frills. He was in black tights, black gloves and a long-sleeved, high necked black shirt. His black hair gleamed under the lights, and only his pale face proved that he wasn't just a dark shadow made three-dimensional.

"Severus Snape... 1981 National Champion, skating to _Mars, Bringer of War_."

Even the announcer's voice seemed hushed, and Remus felt as much as heard a murmur of speculation and confusion around him. The Holst was a serious piece of classical music, dark and powerful and not at all fun or playful as these events normally were. Remus wondered wildly if Snape were trying to send a message by choosing not just serious music, but _that_ music. Then Snape began to skate, and Remus didn't think any more.

There was defiance in every line of Snape's body as he built up speed in a wide arc around the rink, but it fit the music perfectly, dark and powerful and sinister. Then with a sharp snap he hurled himself off the ice, whirling with blinding speed three times, then another snap and he was airborne again, another three spins before landing perfectly and continuing across the ice.

"Triple-toe, triple-toe combination," Minerva gasped in shock, but Remus was very well aware that Snape had just tossed off one of the most difficult combination of jumps any skater could do. Eyes wide, Remus watched, feeling his heart beating in time to the forceful throb of Snape's music.

"Triple lutz... triple Salchow... spin... Russian split..." Remus recited Snape's program under his breath as the other man performed. He had no doubt what was coming when the music built to its crescendo, and, sure enough, Snape tossed off a defiant triple axel before ending his program with another series of spins. He came to a sudden halt, one hand raised in a defiant fist straight over his head.

"Triples... in exhibition... there wasn't one double jump in that whole bloody program," Minerva was muttering beside him. Remus was surprised he could hear her, for the audience who had greeted Snape so lukewarmly was threatening to bring the building down around their ears with the force of their applause and the deafening roar of their cheers. They well knew they had just seen something unprecedented, and Remus stared numbly at Minerva for a moment before rising to his feet and applauding as well. How could he not? He had to put a good face on being virtually humiliated.

Snape, unlike Remus, seemed almost annoyed with his audience. No victory lap for him - he merely skated off the ice, stomping his way past Remus. There was a brief moment with their eyes met before Snape sneered and brushed past, his arm - warm, damp skin encased in clinging lycra - briefly sliding against Remus' bare one before Snape was swallowed up in the press of people who shouted questions at him. If Remus hadn't known better, he might have thought that Snape had touched him deliberately, had known about the shock of awareness Remus would feel from only that brief touch.

"No comment," Minerva was saying, as people who couldn't get at Snape turned to ask Remus what he thought of the performance they had just witnessed. Remus nodded at his coach, still mute, and turned to head into the dressing room, unconsciously stroking the arm Snape had brushed against. 

He wasn't certain what disturbed him more, the blatant challenge of Snape's skating or the fact that Snape might have touched him on purpose. Both actions intrigued him and aroused him. One thing was for certain: A gauntlet had been hurled, and it was now up to Remus to take up the challenge.


	6. Chapter 5

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

It was, Severus thought to himself as he leaned forward in his seat, eyes fixed upon the man who whirled about the ice, a complete and utter waste of his time. He had roundly beaten Lupin at the exhibition skate, had proven that he, Severus Snape, was the nonpareil, the force with which to be reckoned, the best of the best. Lupin couldn't hope to match Severus' jumping, and all the weaving, spinning, and edgework in the world wouldn't make Lupin a champion. Not with Severus back on the scene. There was absolutely nothing for Severus to worry about.

So why was he back watching Lupin practice?

Scowling, Severus forced himself to lean back in the hard plastic seat, crossing his arms over his chest. After the exhibition he had informed Albus that there was nothing to be learned from Lupin, and that the triples had probably demoralized Lupin, whose repertoire of jumps included very few beyond the required ones. Severus had stopped haunting Lupin's practices, and had, instead, turned his attention to modifying his own program with the minor elements Albus insisted upon adding. It was pointless, really, but he supposed he had best make some concessions to keeping the old man happy. 

Lupin had just finished practicing his school figures, and Severus sighed in boredom, running a hand through his long hair. It was no different than it had been a few weeks ago, and he chided himself for staying. He ought to go, but the truth was that there was nothing for Severus to go back _to_. No friends for Severus to talk to, no hobbies, no diversions to absorb his free time. Only the books which had kept him company during the long months of his suspension... and now that he was back in the excitement of competition, those books could no longer hold him. They weren't an escape any longer, a substitute for the sport that exhilarated him, and had, since his return, begun to obsess him. Severus was a man with something to prove, not only to the world, but to himself. 

Sharp words from Minerva McGonagall - Severus couldn't hear them exactly, but the tone was unmistakable - caused Severus to look over to where the old woman and Lupin appeared to be having a disagreement. That was interesting. McGonagall's face was creased in a frown, but Lupin looked as unflappable as ever, smiling slightly as he faced her wrath over whatever it was that had her panties in a knot. Severus had been surprised over the course of his previous observances to notice that Lupin rarely did get flustered, seemed to take almost everything in stride without resorting to the histrionics that many skaters - including Severus - did when a practice went badly. No fits of temper, no whirling about the ice with a clenched jaw and flashing eyes. Only an odd calmness and serenity, as though Lupin had already faced the worst the world had to offer, and found anything else to be of minor consequence.

In fact, the only two times Severus had ever seen Lupin react emotionally were in relation to Severus himself. The time Severus had fallen on the ice, and the night of the exhibition skate.

Severus' crash hadn't cracked Lupin's mask, but the way Lupin had reacted to Severus' anger had been a revelation. The pain in those golden eyes had been quite real, even if Severus had only gotten a fleeting glimpse of it before Lupin's defenses had slammed into place once more. Severus had contemptuously thought at the time that if Lupin couldn't take scorn and derision he had no business being a skater; there was no time for hurt feelings when a championship was on the line. But the glittering _awareness_ Lupin had shown on the night of the exhibition... that was something else entirely.

It had been a provocation on Severus' part, of course, to come off the ice and then brush by Lupin with a look of triumph. He had expected Lupin to cringe back, and had wanted, in some small part of himself, to perhaps bring back the look of pain, to know that Lupin was afraid of him or hated him. He hadn't been prepared for the surge of contact shock he had felt himself, and even less prepared for the way that Lupin had gazed at him with something Severus thought looked suspiciously like hungry desire. It was ridiculous, of course, and probably just a by-product of Severus' adrenaline euphoria after the skate. Lupin certainly couldn't desire him, not after the way that Severus had rebuffed him for his help. And Severus had heard rumors that Lupin and some red-haired woman had been very close before she went off and married a hockey player, so no doubt Lupin didn't even lean _that_ way, either.

Pity.

The way his mind tacked on that thought caused Severus to frown. Yes, Lupin was attractive, there was something mesmerizing at times about the way he skated, so focused upon the music that it had made Severus wonder what he would be like in bed, to be the object of that total absorption that Lupin gave to his skating. But such speculation didn't mean that Severus was attracted to Lupin; it was nothing but idle nonsense, after all, something to fill the monotonous time during which Severus was not on the ice. 

The disagreement seemed to have ended, and Lupin's smile widened before he leaned forward to brush his lips over his coach's cheek. Severus barely held in a snort of derision at the easy affection Lupin showed. The man was too innocent by half, too boyishly, soddingly _perfect_ to be a star. The sooner the European Championships arrived, the better. Severus would win them and Lupin could go running home with his tail between his legs, leaving no barriers between Severus and the Worlds.

Lupin skated off toward center ice, then struck a pose and waited. Severus blinked - what was the man doing? It was Lupin's habit to practice his jumps after the compulsory figures, but it looked for all the world as though he were about to skate a program. Sure enough music started, and again Severus was caught off guard. This wasn't Lupin's music, or not the music he had been rehearsing two weeks ago. Surely the man wasn't insane enough to change his program just before a major international competition! Perhaps this was a new exhibition piece, then, something for Lupin to skate to after Europeans. 

The music was haunting, almost like a dirge, with funereal bells and the imitation of low, howling wind in the background. Lupin skated with slow deliberation, his face caught in that expression of absorption mingled with suppressed inner joy that Severus had seen so often but discounted as being irrelevant to their sport. His body moved in eloquent lines of sorrow, his edges worked the ice, making sounds that were like oddly like hitched, sobbing breaths. Severus was riveted, eyes fixed on Lupin as he began a series of spins. No one did spins _before_ jumps, but Severus couldn't deny that the whirling, the bent lines of Lupin's layback suited the music perfectly. Then Lupin was off again, throwing in a rather well done double axel, then a triple toe loop, double toe loop combination. All this time the music had been building, and Lupin's blades began to stroke the ice harder, propelling his body forward with a burst of speed that caused the sleeves of his rather loose-fitting shirt to flutter with the force of the air sliding past. 

_What is he doing... throwing a triple axel this late in his program? He'll be tired..._

Severus barely had time to register that thought when Lupin sprang up from the ice as though on springs, ankles pressed tightly together and arms tucked against his body. He should have had wings, however, for the speed at which he flew, and Severus automatically counted the rotations as Lupin one-footed the landing, then spun and headed off across the ice.

_Four. It couldn't have been four, I must have miscounted. It had to have been three, perhaps I blinked and added too many. It was **not** four. It's completely impossible..._

His mind might reject the surreality of it, but the sick knot in Severus' stomach confirmed what his eyes had seen. Remus Lupin, the _artistic_ skater, had just done something that no one - _no one_ \- had ever done in a competition program before. 

"Quad toe... he threw a fucking quadruple toe-loop!"

The words were whispered, and Severus could have bitten his tongue for having made the situation real by voicing it. He realized with a start that he had risen to his feet, and he sat down abruptly, watching numbly as Lupin finished up his program. There was at least one more jump, but Severus paid it no heed. The one was all he needed to see.

Lupin could do a quadruple toe-loop. Could do it, and was putting it in a program. 

Severus was _ruined_.

His mind racing at a frantic pace, Severus tried to come up with a way to avert this disaster. He could try making one of his own triple toe loops into a quadruple, but that might change the scope of his program too much, alter the timing in a way that could be disastrous. It wasn't worth changing something unless he _knew_ , beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he could land the damned thing. And for once, Severus wasn't certain that he could.

This had been totally unexpected. Apparently Lupin had more in his bag of tricks than Severus had believed possible. True, it was only one jump, and Severus' program was packed with triples and triple-combinations, but Severus was well acquainted with the realities of skating. If Lupin made that jump and landed it cleanly, Severus had no chance to beat him. None at all.

Dark eyes glittered with anger as he watched Lupin skate toward McGonagall. His gaze sharpened, however, as he noticed that rather than a bright smile of victory, Lupin looked almost sick. He was so pale Severus could even see it from halfway around the ice, and he looked positively wobbly as he stepped off it. McGonagall was there, speaking in a low, urgent voice, taking Lupin's arm and leading him to a bench. Severus craned his neck, watching as Lupin replied, and McGonagall picked up a sports drink and thrust it into his hands. Lupin took it, but then seemed to slump forward over himself, leaving Severus to wonder if the man had fainted.

McGonagall gasped, and then reached down out of Severus' sight. She fumbled with something for a moment, and then, as Severus watched in shock, injected Lupin in the arm with a syringe, a hard jab straight through the sleeve of his shirt. 

In a few moments Lupin seemed to recover, his head coming up as he drew in a shuddering breath. Severus could see that his face was dripping with perspiration, but Lupin raised the drink to his lips, gulping down the fluid as though he were a man who had crossed the desert and seen no water for days.

Severus was stunned, even as he watched McGonagall talking to Lupin. He saw the other man shake his head at whatever his coach was saying, and then Lupin looked up. His eyes encountered Severus, and there was no mistaking the look of fear on Lupin's face as he realized Severus had been watching the entire time.

As for Severus himself, his eyes narrowed in speculation. So... Lupin was a drug addict! No wonder he was suddenly lobbing quadruples when he never had before. He was using some kind of performance enhancer, obviously, and McGonagall was aiding and abetting him! It was a scandal, but more than that... it was leverage. It was something that Severus could hold over Lupin's head. Or maybe he wouldn't even do that. Maybe Severus would go straight to the authorities, get Lupin suspended in the same way that Severus had been suspended. After all, Severus hadn't even known about Malfoy's plans, and he had been punished. Lupin and his coach were in this up to their necks, and it was only right that they paid the price.

Giving a smug smile, Severus stood and stalked out of the rink. He could tell Lupin was watching him, but it didn't matter in the slightest. Severus would actually have to thank Albus for his insistence that he watch Lupin and learn from him because he had learned something very interesting, indeed. Something that would give him the victory he so richly deserved.


	7. Chapter 6

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

Remus read the headline of the paper, wincing before throwing it down in disgust and raising his fingers to his temples to massage away the incipient headache. _Pride goeth_ , he thought with an internal sigh, closing his eyes and chastising himself for being ten times a fool. Showing off that way for Snape - and against Minerva's advice - had almost cost Remus everything. It still might, if the newspapers weren't as quick about printing the fact of his innocence as they had been the reports of his guilt.

It was Snape, no question about it, although everything with the NISA had been couched in terms of "interested parties" and "reasonable suspicions". It was a closed investigation, and one that had been quickly and easily countered by a drug test, and the NISA had issued the results at once. But not before the fact that there _was_ an investigation had been leaked to the press and the damage done.

Of course Remus had come clean to NISA, and there had been many apologies and expressions of understanding, and because Remus asked for privacy the officials granted it, only reporting the fact that he had been absolved with no other explanations. Remus had just given an interview that afternoon, stating that he felt that he had been the target of a person or persons who wished to see him removed from competition. He hadn't mentioned Snape by name, but he hadn't needed to - the allegations may have been anonymous, but the press was quite capable of drawing their own conclusions.

Unfortunately the interview hadn't been in time for the evening edition, so Remus was forced to sit and wait and worry, hoping that the next day would bring a shift to any negative public sentiments over the incident. Skating was a sport, but like any sport it was subject to the whims of fans and the public. A skater's psychological edge, especially at the levels where Remus competed, was crucial, and at the moment, Remus didn't think he had the mental energy to do a single spin without falling flat on his arse.

There was a knock at the door of his flat, and Remus glanced up, biting his lip and wondering if he should answer it. He hesitated - it could be another reporter - then decided he wasn't going to answer it. He could indulge himself for one evening, sitting alone in the dark and licking his wounds before having to face the morrow. After all these years and all the hard work, it was little enough to ask for the world to go away and leave him in peace for a few hours.

But it was not to be. There came the sound of a key in the lock, and then the door opened to admit Sirius, followed by James. Of course it had to be them, for Minerva was the only other one who had a key to his flat. He sighed, leaning his head back on the sofa and gazing at his friends with mock dismay - or perhaps it wasn't such a phony expression as he would have liked to think.

"Mooning again?" Sirius asked, shaking his head and tsking as he crossed to the sofa where Remus was sprawled out, comfortable in old pants of stretchy jersey and an oversize shirt from their Uni days. "Moony is mooning... why am I not surprised? Are you surprised, James?"

"Indeed I am not," James drawled, and the two of them grinned down at Remus in a way that caused Remus' eyes to narrow.

"Not that I am suspicious of why you are here," he said, leaning back and regarding them, his arms crossed on his chest. "But why are you here? And grinning like that? I feel like a canary being regarded by two particularly smug cats."

"We're here to take your mind off your problems," Sirius said, reaching out to grasp Remus' hand and hauling him to his feet with deceptively casual strength. "You're not going to sit here brooding, acting like you are guilty or afraid of some idiotic accusations, are you? Throw it in their faces, that's what I always say. You haven't done a bloody damned thing wrong, and you need to hold your head up and spit in their eyes."

"Exactly," James agreed, slinging an arm around Remus and guiding him toward the bedroom. "Not that you aren't fetching in that garb, but the ladies are a bit more picky than your old mates. Put on some glad rags and we'll take you out. Don't worry, Moony - no one would dare say a mean word to you with a couple of bruisers like Sirius and me around." 

"Ladies?" Remus asked faintly. Oh, great, a evening with his friends, who were probably going to try to find him some female companionship, no doubt thinking that all he needed was a good shag to relieve the stress of the scandal. The last thing Remus needed was to try to gently reject some gushing girl when he'd prefer to be exploring pale, stubbled skin with his lips and tongue and teeth and...

And Remus couldn't believe after everything he was still attracted to that bastard Snape.

"Ladies... that will be fine, just fine," Remus said, his jaw clenching with determination as he turned toward his bedroom to change. In this case, he thought grimly, it was much better to go with the devil he didn't know rather than the one he did.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Remus was not a heavy drinker by any means, for various reasons of which his friends were well aware. He could have a pint or two now and again, although it had been quite a while since the last one. At his party, as a matter of fact, he thought as he stared into the glass of dark beer; the party to celebrate his victory, which now seemed so long ago Remus could barely recall it, but which in reality had occurred only a few weeks before. It might as well have been a lifetime for all that Remus felt he had aged in the interim.

Still it was enjoyable to be out with his friends, and the amount of alcohol he had imbibed was enough to give him a bit of a pleasant blur. James and Sirius held up most of the conversation, regaling him with stories of their hockey games and the vagaries of games that switched venues each week. Remus was able to relax, adding in comments when it seemed necessary, ignoring any stares cast in his direction. There weren't many, thankfully, even though they were in a pub not far from the rink that seemed to cater to a sporting crowd.

The place wasn't packed, not surprising given that it was a weeknight and the after-work crowd had departed for their homes and dinner. There were enough people, though, that Remus was glad for the larger bodies of his friends shielding him from open view in the booth they occupied. The buzz of conversation and the laughter of the crowd mixed with the clink of glasses and the murmur of the television in the corner - pleasant background sounds, familiar and soothing, lulling Remus until he felt peaceful and almost drowsy.

Which was why it was a shock when Remus suddenly stiffened, aware on some level that he was being watched. He didn't even have to move his head to be able to tell that Snape had entered the pub, and that dark eyes had fixed on him with unerring accuracy.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Sirius asked, noticing that Remus had shifted. Grey eyes searched Remus' face, and Remus sighed, figuring that he might as well get this over with.

"Snape just walked in."

"Bloody hell!" Sirius and James both gasped. Remus didn't look at the door, but his friends both did, and Remus could tell from their expressions of anger and disgust that he had been right.

"Bastard," Sirius spat, his jaw tightening in anger. "It was him, wasn't it? I could tell by the way you so carefully _didn't_ say who had caused the ruckus that it must have been. Damn. I've half a mind to dish out a little of his own medicine to him. Let's see how well he can skate if we break both his legs."

"You can't," Remus replied tightly, reaching out to put a hand on Sirius' arm. He looked appealingly at James, who was usually the more thoughtful of the two, although James was quite capable of getting up to plenty of mischief on his own. "Please... let it be. The story will come out tomorrow and it will all blow over, less than a seven-days wonder. Please... you'll only get yourselves in trouble!"

Remus still hadn't looked in Snape's direction; he wasn't certain what he might see if he did. Anger? Guilt? Accusation? No matter what it was he didn't want to face it, not tonight. Not until he knew that he himself wouldn't snap with fury at knowing how far Snape would go to ruin anyone who stood in his way.

"That's all right... he's going," Sirius said quietly, shifting his body to shield Remus and shooting a speaking look at James, which Remus missed. But Remus was aware the weird tingling he felt just knowing Snape was there had eased, and he relaxed once more, sighing.

"He's gone?" he asked, looking at Sirius for confirmation. "Um... I hate to be a spoilsport, guys, but... would you mind if I called it a night? I appreciate what you've done, and it's helped, but I think I'm ready to head home."

"Sounds like a plan," Sirius agreed quickly. "Er... glad you could come out, Moony, and I'm glad we helped a bit. Why don't you head on home, then? I want to go to the loo before I leave, though. James?"

"I'll come with you," James agreed, rising to his feet and laying a hand on Remus' arm, squeezing gently. "We'll come see you at the weekend, all right? Lily and I will pop by with Harry. He's been asking about you every time he sees you on the telly."

"All right," Remus replied, frowning slightly at the way his friends were being so agreeable about letting him go. He had expected more of an argument, especially because they hadn't even chatted up any of the ladies for him as they had threatened to do. Something felt wrong about all this, but Remus couldn't be certain it wasn't the beer making him overly sensitive. Or perhaps it had been Snape's sudden appearance, although Remus certainly wasn't happy about crediting _that_ with his change in mood.

He slid out of the booth, giving them each a hug. "Right, then. See you later. Give my love to Lily."

"Will do. Sleep well, mate," Sirius replied, then turned away with a somewhat grim smile, taking James by the arm and heading toward the public loo at the back of the pub. 

Remus watched them go, then shook his head and turned toward the door. Maybe the beer would help him to sleep.

He had taken perhaps a half dozen steps when it struck him. The way Sirius had said "he's going", and then had moved to block Remus' view. Almost as if Sirius didn't want Remus to see _where_ Snape had headed. And then they had both been so eager for Remus to leave...

_Damn it. He's in the loo and they're going after him._

Remus didn't know exactly why he was so certain of it, but he was. Perhaps because Sirius was terrible when it came to deceiving his friends, even though the man could bald-face to anyone else with the innocence of an altar boy. Whatever the reason, however, Remus was sure of what his friends were up to, and equally certain that he had to stop it.

Moving quickly through the pub, Remus reached the loo, pushing open the door and stepping inside. Sure enough, James and Sirius had Snape backed up against a wall, although Snape was trying to stare them down with a haughty look. He was as tall as James and Sirius, but they were much brawnier, and Remus knew that any physical fight would be over quickly and messily.

"Don't... you can't," Remus said quietly. 

Sirius turned, then heaved a sigh. "Moony... you were going home, remember? Just keep going and forget this. We're just... talking."

There was a world of menace in those words, and Remus shook his head. "I know what the two of you are trying to do, and I appreciate that you want to avenge me, but this isn't the way. It wouldn't be right."

"That's right, Lupin, it's not right to let your friends fight your battle. You're too weak to do it yourself anyway," Snape said nastily. But Remus wasn't about to let the man's sharp tongue provoke his friends into continuing with their rash actions.

"Ignore him, don't make him the victim," Remus said, giving Snape a calm look. "He tried, and he failed. I know his sort - the fact that he couldn't get what he wanted will rankle him far more than anything you could do to him physically. Including breaking his legs, although I'm sure you'd make it look like an accident, and who'd believe him if he said otherwise?"

Snape's eyes widened at that. It was an idle threat on Remus' part, but Snape had the sense to shut his mouth. Perhaps the man hadn't considered that James and Sirius would do more than make threats to intimidate him - that they could really hurt him. Little did he know.

"Remus..." James said, then looked at Sirius and shrugged. The game was up now, and, with a sigh, James took Sirius by the arm. "All right, we won't. This time. But I swear if that prick does anything else to you..."

"If he does, I'll handle it," Remus replied firmly, then gave his friends a smile. "Now you two go on. I want to talk to him."

"No! Moony, look, he's scum. You know what he did before, maybe he'll try to rough you up!" Sirius protested, shooting Snape a nasty look.

"He won't. Now go on, all right? I'm a big boy, and I know what I'm doing."

Remus watched as his friends exchanged another look. "You touch him, and we'll find you," Sirius growled, looking at Snape with hatred. "You might keep him from skating, but we'd return the favor. In spades."

With that James pulled Sirius from the room, leaving Remus looking at Snape and wondering if what he was about to do was entirely wise.

"So, how did you do it, Lupin?" Snape asked, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Remus.

"What? You saw... I asked them to leave and they did," Remus replied, cocking his head to one side and wondering if Snape were drunk or something.

"Not that!" Snape's tone was irritated, and there was also bitterness in the dark voice. "How did you buy off the NISA? I heard you had been totally absolved of any wrongdoing, but I'm not stupid. I saw what McGonagall did. Brilliant, being able to fake a drug test or get someone to cover it up. You obviously have more powerful friends than I do."

"There was no cover up," Remus responded tiredly, wanting to kick himself for not realizing what Snape had been implying. "You probably don't believe me, but that's the truth. The drug test didn't show anything because I am not taking any drugs. Not in the way that you obviously think."

"Do you think I'm a simpleton, Lupin, to believe that?" Snape snorted derisively, straightening up from his position against the wall and stalking toward Remus with a dangerous gleam in his eye. "You're the golden boy, and for some reason they are covering for you, when they tossed _me_ to the wolves. I won't stand for it. You'll be exposed, Lupin, for exactly what you are, and then I'll be the winner."

"Actually, you won't," Remus replied, his voice casual although his heart was racing. It wasn't Snape's threats, but his nearness that was affecting Remus. Even though it was a weak thing to do, Remus took a step away, covering the motion by leaning against a sink as though he hadn't a care in the world. "If you expose me, you'll hand me the victory; which is precisely why I don't want you to do it."

There was a pause and Snape's eyes narrowed with suspicion before he gave a bark of dismissive laughter. "How will your drug use hand you the victory? You're daft was well as corrupt! I was blind to what Malfoy did to me, but you are mad to think you'll get away with this!"

"I'm not mad... I'm diabetic."

The words were out, spoken, hanging there between them in the air like something tangible. They stared at one another for some time, then Snape broke the silence, an odd note in his voice.

"You're ill?"

"No!" The denial was there immediately on Remus' lips, and his tone was defensive. He couldn't help it. "I have a condition, for which I take shots of insulin twice per day. One of the potential difficulties I face as an athlete, however, is that heavy exercise, like skating, can sometimes cause me to become hypoglycemic. I get weak - faint, shaky, the world greys out in a particularly bad episode, such as the one you observed. Normally drinking or eating something with sugar nullifies the effects very rapidly, but when I can't do that, there is another shot, one that puts glucose directly into my bloodstream. _That_ is what you saw. Not drugs. Medication."

Snape's black eyes were hooded, unreadable. "Why the secrecy then? Why shouldn't I report _this_ to the press? How will that give you a victory?"

There was something rather cold and calculating about the way Snape asked that, but Remus had gone too far to back down now. He would be exposing not just his condition, but his own fears by telling Snape; it was frightening, but Remus had no other choice.

"Oh, surely you can see that, you aren't stupid," Remus replied, trying to keep some semblance of control of the situation. "You know perfectly well that we are judged not just on our skating, but on our personal lives to a certain extent. There is an awful lot of room in those scores for prejudices, and for favoritism. I don't want that. I don't want people to either discriminate against me, or, perhaps worse, feel _sorry_ for me. I want what anyone wants, including you - I want to be judged for my skating, for my own abilities and strengths. I don't want any victory - or defeat - tainted by bias." He paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Would you wish to lose to me not because you were not the better skater, but because some of the judges felt I deserved it for 'skating against adversity?' Or perhaps win against me, but have to wonder if the victory would have stood if the judges hadn't decided my illness meant I _didn't_ deserve to win?" 

The calculation in Snape's eyes was still there, and he continued to stare at Remus for several long moments. Remus waited, refusing to plead. He could only hope that his appeal to Snape's self-interest carried the argument, and that Snape would agree to keep Remus' condition to himself. A faint hope, perhaps, but Remus would rather face the truth in the press than for Snape to come up with any more wild stories in an attempt to get him suspended.

"Why should I believe you?" Snape asked, brows drawing down once more into a scowl. "Why should I think you aren't doing this to manipulate me? Your friends were about to try to assault me - why should I think there is truth to any of this?"

"I can prove it, if you like," Remus replied wearily, although his private nature rebelled at the thought of showing his weakness so blatantly to a man who was not just a rival, but something very like an enemy. "I have documentation from my endocrinologist, as well as my prescriptions. I have hospital records from the times I've gotten ill enough to be admitted. I've been taking shots twice every bloody day since I was 8-years-old - if it will convince you, you can watch when I take my next one in about an hour."

"Fine, I believe you," Snape said suddenly, speaking as though the words were wrenched from him. He looked to be in a very black mood, indeed, but as he made an abrupt movement toward the door, Remus found that he wanted to waylay Snape, to stop him and ask if Snape _really_ believed it, and if he would promise not to betray Remus' secret. But that would be weak and Remus forced himself to remain still, jaw clenched to hold back the words.

Snape opened the door, then turned back to give Remus another grim glance. "I didn't need your help with your brutish friends, by the way... I could have handled them, and they would have been much worse for the experience. Just stay out of my way, Lupin. Stay far, far out of my way."

With that Snape's black-clad form vanished through the door, leaving Remus staring after him with the uneasy feeling that Snape, while not a friend, might no longer be an active enemy... and that thought was disturbing on more levels than Remus cared to contemplate.


	8. Chapter 7

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

Severus Snape was not nervous.

Or so he had told himself at least forty times since waking up that morning, as though through sheer force of will he could make it so. It wasn't as though it were true nerves, but more like a lightheadedness from too much adrenaline - the heart-pounding anticipation of what was to come. There was nothing to _be_ anxious about, he told himself with no small amount of sarcasm. It was just the European Championships, Severus' first competition since his exoneration. He had so much to prove, so many critics to overcome. Everything was on the line.

And he had let Lupin walk away scott free, when he still might have been able to wreck the man's career.

Severus had berated himself a million times in the last few hours for that decision. He wasn't certain why he even believed Lupin, anyway - it could have been a cover story, and Lupin could have been using the excuse of an illness to cover drug use. It didn't even have to be narcotics, it could have been any of the performance-enhancing drugs that were starting to be very carefully examined by the IOC and other governing bodies. It would explain the quadruple jump that Lupin had suddenly been able to do, jumps that taxed even Severus' athletic ability to its limit.

But Severus _did_ believe Lupin, and, as little as he liked to admit it, he also understood Lupin's reasoning for keeping it a secret. The man was rather perceptive, which was annoying in and of itself. Lupin obviously understood the three "Ps" that seemed to rule the skating world - performance, press, and politics.

It didn't mean that Severus liked it, and he didn't, not one bit. Yet there seemed to be nothing he could do other than turn his attention to his own "Ps", especially the "performance" one. That concern constituted a large part of his mixed feelings about the upcoming program - if Lupin did throw the quad, Severus was going to _have_ to produce a quad of his own if he expected to beat the man. Not to mention that Severus' pride as the best jumper in skating demanded that he answer the challenge.

Severus had started practicing a quadruple toe-loop of his own, and had even managed to land it several times in practice, much to his satisfaction. Albus wasn't pleased about it at all, and told Severus he was, literally, jumping at shadows. "You've a solid program, with more triples than anyone has ever performed in competition before," Albus had said. "Don't mess it up by trying something you've not worked on nearly enough!"

That was all very well for Albus to say, but Albus had his titles under his belt from years ago. He wasn't driven the way that Severus was, didn't really understand what it was like for Severus to have had the world then to have fallen from grace so utterly, losing everything that he had worked for most of his life to achieve. It wasn't just that Severus needed vindication from the world -- he needed vindication from his own self-loathing at his failure to have prevented Malfoy from ruining his life.

He had never admitted it to anyone, but Severus was as angry at himself for his suspension as he was at his former coach. Over the last year he had gone over every conversation he'd had with Malfoy, trying to think of anything the man could have said that should have alerted Severus to the fact that Malfoy was unscrupulous to the point of committing a felony against an innocent man. In retrospect there were slight hints, not the least of which was Malfoy's obsession with winning. But that obsession had only mirrored Severus' own, and thus hadn't sent up any red flags to indicate that Malfoy was quite willing to go too far for that win.

With an effort, Severus pulled himself away from contemplations of the past. They were pointless, harmful, even, since he needed to concentrate on the issue at hand. Compulsories had been the previous morning, and Severus had done his usual efficient job at tracing the school figures, earning quite decent marks for his efforts. Not as high as the Soviet skaters, perhaps, but they skated like robots anyway. He had come out of them ahead of Lupin, and that had been enough.

The short program last night, however, had narrowed the field considerably. By the time it was over, the top five skaters - the ones considered to have the best chance at medalling - were Schramm of Germany, Simond of France, Bobrin of the Soviet Union... and Snape and Lupin of Great Britain.

Severus could have wished that Lupin had flubbed the short program, but all the skaters had performed cleanly and the distance between the scores were mere tenths of points. Winning the competition now came down to the long program, the program Severus was about to skate, the one that had his palms unaccountably damp and his heart beating faster than he liked. The worst part was that he had drawn a spot skating _before_ Lupin in the rotation, which left Severus with an agonizing decision - throw a quad into his program to counter the one in Lupin's, or play it conservative and hope that Lupin flubbed the jump.

It wasn't an easy position to be in, and Severus didn't like it one bit, but there was no help for it. He still hadn't decided which way he was going to go when Albus came to fetch him for the warm-up. As he walked carefully on his blades toward the ice, Severus was worrying his lower lip with his teeth, but he stopped with a frown the moment he realized he was doing it. He barely heard Albus' pep talk as he removed his guards, passing them to Albus with a terse nod. Severus didn't look around at all, but turned and stepped out onto the ice, needing to skate off some of his excess energy, to burn the adrenaline down to a level that would enhance his performance rather than endanger it.

And there was Lupin, swishing across the ice with a look of absorption. Their eyes met, and suddenly Severus knew precisely what he was going to do.

Calm settled upon him like a warm blanket, and Severus went into his standard warm up. He threw a series of double jumps effortlessly, then glided to the side of the rink as the warm-up ended, ready to face the challenge to come.

Schramm skated first, then Bobrin, and then it was Severus' turn. He stepped back onto the ice, acknowledging the audience almost brusquely, and took his place at center ice. His costume was the simple black he preferred, this time with a scarlet sash around his slim waist, emphasizing the starkness of his lean form. There was the typical hushed pause, and then his music started.

Like all of the songs Severus used, it had a heavy bass rhythm, nothing of the melodic or classical for him. It was a modern piece, released only the previous year, and it was in a march tempo, making it sound almost defiantly militant. It flowed over him, and he was almost unaware of it, because the music was no more than window dressing, a way to help him with his timing.

Faster and faster he moved across the ice, building up speed and executing his jumps. The combination triple was so high, so perfect that the audience gasped, but Severus barely heard it. He maintained his focus through the required footwork, then his triple axel, which as usual went off without a hitch. That was normally the highlight of his program, coming near the middle before he started on his spins, but Severus had other plans. After the axel he had a planned triple toe-loop for his next jump, something the audience was expecting, another spectacular leap from a master of the art. Severus fully intended to deliver the thrill they were expecting... only it wasn't going to be a triple.

The music moved on, building in tension so that even Severus could feel it, tugging at him, causing the audience to hold its collective breath in anticipation. The ice flashed by with blinding speed under his feet, and Severus felt eerily calm as he set up for the jump. Just a little bit of extra speed was all he needed, an extra measure of force as he hurled himself off the ice. His leg came back in a practiced, almost instinctive motion, and he was poised for his launch... when it happened.

Some roughness on the ice, perhaps a chunk torn up by one of Schramm or Bobrin's jumps, came under his blade at precisely the moment that he reached back to spring. It wasn't huge, but it was large enough to cause the minutest of wobbles in his leg, to drag it for a fraction of a second as he leapt from the ice, whirling with blinding speed. 

Skating was a sport where the slightest factors, such as the temperature of the ice or the drag of a costume, the sharpness of blades or even the tightness of the laces could have consequences far in excess of what their relative importance might seem to the casual observer. Repeated practice of a movement or a jump could lessen these factors, as one learned the responses of the body, the adjustments necessary to compensate for the times when a jump "felt" wrong. Severus could do this instinctively on any of his triple jumps, jumps in which he had invested many, many hours of practice. But the quadruple was new, and even though he had landed it cleanly before, there was a very large difference in a few dozen attempts and the many hundreds through which he had perfected his other jumps. Even though his form was flawless, his setup perfect, it didn't mean that he had yet learned to adjust automatically for inconsistencies in his take-off.

As a result, Severus was tilted forward as he began his rotations, and he even managed to complete all four. But the instability left him very slightly unbalanced, only a few degrees off vertical and almost imperceptible to the naked eye. Yet it was just enough that as the ice rushed up to meet him Severus' feet tangled, impacting together before he could sweep one back, sending him crashing to the ice in a tangle of limbs. The music continued, overlaid now by gasps, not of surprised awe from an enchanted audience, but of horror from a crowd witnessing something that had seemed, until now, to be a near physical impossibility...

Severus Snape had fallen.


	9. Chapter 8

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

Hot water cascaded over Remus' shoulders, steam rising up around him as he tilted his head to let the steady stream soak his hair. He breathed deeply and forced himself to relax. Although his head throbbed and his feet hurt, under the pain were the senses of accomplishment and elation. He had done it... he, Remus Lupin, had taken gold in the European Championships.

He had not expected the victory, even though, like any competitor, he had certainly _hoped_ he could win. It had been one of those magical nights where everything had gone right, where he had lost himself so thoroughly in the music, in the glide of his body across the ice, that when he had stopped at the end of his program the crashing applause of the audience had startled him as though he had been in a dream. He had completely forgotten that there was anyone else in the room, and he had flushed and smiled somewhat sheepishly before taking his bows in a sweeping circle about the ice.

Remus had skated last in the rotation, and he had known without a doubt he had won, even before the scores were posted. He had felt giddy as he stepped off the ice into Minerva's arms, her beaming smile and the tears of happiness in her faded blue eyes all the reward he really needed.

Things had become a bit of a blur after that - the time in the kiss and cry, the announcement of his win, the victory lap about the ice, the medal ceremony. Then came endless photographs, statements to the press, questions, questions and more questions. Minerva had been at his side throughout, and it was she who had finally extracted him from the press and the throngs of well-wishers, sending Remus off with a mother's firmness to shower and change. He was grateful for the respite, and had wasted no time downing some glucose tablets from his case, as well; he was feeling somewhat trembly from the fatigue, but the pure glucose did its job, enabling him to stand under the water with no more than normal exhaustion, his brain trying to process all the images of the last two hours.

In the whirl of faces and voices, one had stood out forcefully - that of Severus Snape, his face pale but his dark eyes burning with fury. Snape had taken the bronze, just below Norbert Schramm of Germany. Remus didn't know until after the medal ceremony was over that Snape had attempted a quad and had fallen. Surprised, Remus' gaze had gone involuntarily to the tall, black-clad figure who was stomping away from the press of reporters, anger evident in every line of his body. 

That was the last Remus had seen of Snape, and, to be honest, he was glad to have been spared the force of that glare. Perhaps it was because Snape somehow made Remus feel almost embarrassed for having won, as though it were somehow Remus' fault that things had turned out the way that they had. It was a ridiculous fancy, to be sure, but it was alarming how easily Snape could jangle Remus' nerves, how very _aware_ Remus was of the force of those intense eyes and the personality behind them. 

He had even absurdly wanted to apologize when Snape had snubbed him on the podium, refusing the traditional handshake and glowering through the photos. Snape hadn't raised his flowers and medal up as Remus and Schramm had, smiling for the cameras. Instead he had scowled, deserting the podium as quickly as possible, looking like wrath incarnate. It wasn't going to play well in the press, and Remus sighed, annoyed with himself for even worrying about Snape when Snape was a grown man and could take the heat for his own behavior.

The shower area of the locker room was a wide-open space, tiled in grey on the floor and walls, with the showerheads set at intervals along the length of one wall. The other competitors had all left long ago, and Remus lingered, enjoying the rare solitude. The hot water splashed over him, sliding down his body to swirl around his feet before making its way to circle the drain at the base of the wall. Remus watched the water flow away, feeling his mind finally slowing as fatigue overcame the adrenaline that had coursed through his system for the last several hours. He leaned one arm and then his forehead against the cool tiles, closing his eyes and listening to the patter the shower was making.

Some minutes later another sound came, a hollow sort of thump that echoed in the tiled chamber. Remus opened his eyes and looked drowsily toward the entrance, surprised to see Snape standing there, still dressed in his costume - although with boots instead of skates - arms crossed over his chest as he graced Remus with a baleful glare. Remus blinked groggily, then pulled himself upright, a bit unnerved by the dark, steady gaze.

"Snape," he acknowledged quietly. He was half-tempted to shut off the water and snatch up his towel, but he wasn't about to give the other man the satisfaction of knowing he had Remus even slightly rattled. Instead Remus reached for the soap he had placed in the tray that jutted from the wall, as well as his washcloth on the hook beside it. He wet the cloth, soaped it, then turned his back to Snape as he ran it efficiently over his body, trying to pretend as though Snape weren't even in the room.

"You skated your old program," Snape said after a few moments, his voice icy enough to cause Remus to repress a shiver. "Not the one with the quad."

Remus turned his head, frowning as he looked at Snape over his shoulder. "Minerva decided that the program wasn't ready yet. I tried to change her mind, but she was insistent. I might have the talent - currently, that is, since she was once a greater champion than I'll probably ever be - but she also has the experience. That's why she's the coach. I trust her judgment."

Snape's glare become even more hostile, and he took several steps into the room, the heels of his boots again echoing on the tile. "You did it on purpose! It's your fault that I lost!"

"My fault?" Remus asked, turning around fully and staring at Snape as though the man had lost his mind. He forgot that he was naked, forgot everything except that Snape was trying to blame him for his fall. It put Remus on the defensive, a feeling that he didn't like at all, and he threw down the washcloth before giving Snape a disgusted look. "You really are too much, you know. You watch my practices in an attempt to rattle me, then you blame me when I throw a quad in a piece that is not ready for competition. It apparently got your back up so much that you went and did something stupid, changing your own program to put in a jump you probably hadn't practiced enough. Then when you fall, you have the audacity to stand there and blame _me_? And to think I felt sorry for you!"

"Sorry for me?" Snape spat, his face now white with fury. "Oh, I'm certain you felt sorry for me, Lupin! First your friends try to beat me up to take me out of competition, then you do something deliberately to rattle me, something to put me at a disadvantage because you know I can't resist a challenge!"

"Gee, sounds exactly like something you would do," Remus taunted, his eyes flashing golden with anger. "No, excuse me, it's something you've already _done_... oh, right, you claim you didn't know anything about Malfoy's actions, right? And trying to intimidate me was all for your own benefit too, I suppose!"

The minute he said the words Remus regretted them. He didn't normally let his temper get the better of him, but there was something about Snape that raised his hackles as no one else had ever done. But his apology died on his lips, as Snape, his eyes as black and empty as space, suddenly charged, pushing Remus back hard against the cold tile of the wall and leaning over him menacingly.

"I haven't done anything," Snape drawled, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "But I'm about to."

Remus' eyes widened as Snape pressed against his body, and with a start Remus was reminded that he was naked. Naked and apparently aroused, as he felt the length of Snape's long, tall body against his. He was even more shocked to feel evidence of Snape's arousal as well, and he stared up into the depths of Severus' eyes, meeting them for one long moment before Snape lowered his head and captured Remus' lips in a hard, demanding kiss.

The breath left Remus' body in a low groan at the feeling of those thin lips pressed against his own. It reminded him of the dreams he had had, the ones he hadn't wanted to think about. All the focus, all the passion that Snape had shown on the ice was now focused on Remus, that and the anger, too, which always seemed to be there just below the surface. It called forth an answering passion in Remus, one that he knew he shouldn't fee, yet was powerless to resist.

He should have shoved Snape away. He should have punched him, kicked him, beat him to a pulp for assaulting him. Instead, Remus' hands came up to Snape's waist as he told himself to fight, that Snape would use this against him. His heartless rival would ridicule him, would go to the press and tell Remus' second greatest secret to the world. But when Remus' hands touched Snape's body, instead of pushing Remus found himself pulling Snape closer, fingers sliding up under the clinging fabric of Snape's shirt and splaying on the warm, bare skin beneath as he parted his lips in silent invitation.

Snape tensed, just for a moment - a long, breathless moment as though Remus had startled him. But then Snape reacted, his tongue invading Remus' mouth, his fingers plunging into the wet waves of Remus' hair, tugging at them almost savagely. Remus kissed back with equal intensity, his tongue stroking Snape's as a fierce, wild need built within him, a hunger of an intensity he had never felt in his life. He wanted to devour, he wanted to be devoured, and nothing and no one was going to stop him.

Remus moved his hands down, pushing them beneath the clinging lycra of the trousers of Snape's costume, fitting his fingers along the curve of Snape's arse. He arched, moaning into the kiss and their hips rocked together, then he tore his mouth from Snape's as he gasped for air. His head tilted back, and Snape took that for the invitation it was, fastening his wicked mouth onto the sensitive flesh of Remus' throat, sucking and biting as he thrust back against Remus, creating a delicious friction that did more to arouse than satisfy.

He wanted, he _needed_ , and so when he found himself suddenly whirled around to face the wall, Remus didn't protest. It was all sensation now, blackness at the edges of his vision as he gave himself over to whatever Snape wanted. Apparently Snape wanted it all, for there was slickness that must have been Remus' conditioner, and pressure and pain and then a delicious, aching fullness, and Remus cried out, his hands scrabbling uselessly on the wall as he thrust back wantonly. 

Time blurred, became meaningless as they moved, as Remus felt lips and teeth on his shoulder and hands wrapping around him to caress and coax moans of pleasure from his lips. Moans he freely gave, as pressure built within him, as he rode the spiral of pleasure to a dizzying height before suddenly shattering, flying free of himself in a burst of ecstasy, a harsh cry torn from his lips.

A groan that sounded almost pained answered him, and then his lover was shuddering against him, mouth close to Remus' ear so that the harsh, panting breaths danced over Remus' wet skin. They stood like that, Remus sandwiched between cold, hard tile and a hot, hard body, for some time, breathing fast, hearts beating in tandem. Remus felt sated, his limbs heavy and relaxed, and he gave a sigh of regret at the loss of contact when Snape stepped back and away.

Turning, Remus smiled, a drowsy smile of fulfillment, of appreciation for the spectacular sensations that had melted his body. He looked at Snape, about to open his arms to invite his lover back for a kiss, when he noticed that Snape wasn't smiling. In fact, Snape had yanked his costume back into place and stood glaring at Remus even more ferociously than when he had entered the room. The only evidence that anything had happened between them at all was the flush on Snape's face and the pleasurable ache in Remus' body.

"Severus?" Remus murmured, confusion warring with the heavy lassitude that had seemed to steal over his body and mind. "What..."

"Nothing happened," Snape hissed, his eyes becoming shuttered, his expression as cold as arctic ice. "Nothing happened, Lupin. Remember that, or I will make sure that you regret it to the end of your days."

Raw pain flashed through Remus as though he had been stabbed - anguish and an aching sense of loss before blessed anger came to his rescue. He straightened from the wall, reaching over to snatch his towel from the hook and wrapping it around his waist. Snape had used him, no doubt had meant to humiliate him, and it made Remus sick with loathing for the man in front of him, as well as for himself for responding so eagerly.

"Fine, nothing happened," he snapped, feeling bitter nausea rising in the pit of his stomach. "And nothing better happen ever again."

"Fine."

Their eyes met, and for a moment Remus thought he saw something almost like pain in Snape's before the other man whirled and stalked toward the door. Remus watched, tempted to follow, wanting to call Snape back and yet hating himself for it. At the doorway Snape stopped abruptly, and for one wild moment Remus thought that Snape had changed his mind, that he was going to come back. A hope he hadn't expected to feel built within him, a hope that was dashed as Severus stepped back allowing Albus Dumbledore to enter the room.

Blue eyes behind spectacles looked first at Snape, then traveled to where Remus stood clutching the towel around his hips. Remus flushed, but before he could think of anything to say to cover the strange embarrassment of the moment, Dumbledore stepped past Snape and walked up to Remus. His expression was troubled and sad, and Remus wondered if the coach had seen what had happened and was about to make some bizarre apology for Snape's behavior.

When Dumbledore spoke, the words hurt worse than Remus could have ever dreamed.

"I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, dear boy, but... it's Minerva. You need to come quickly - I'm afraid she's had a heart attack."


	10. Chapter 9

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

"You'll do anything go get away from me, won't you?"

Remus' voice was quiet and full of humor, but his eyes were full of concern as he stepped into Minerva's hospital room. He crossed quickly to the bed, taking the hand that she held out to him and pressing a kiss to the back of her cold fingers.

"Damned fools won't let me out," Minerva complained, her blue eyes soft with affection as Remus took the seat next to the bed. Then her gazed sharpened, became professional. "You look like hell, young man. You had best have been taking care of yourself, or I will get out of this bed and kick your arse up one side and down the other."

Remus chuckled softly, although the sound was less humorous than he would have liked, fraught as he was with worry for his coach. Her voice was full of its usual tartness, but it was weak, and her face was pale. "Yes, Ma'am," he replied, looking cowed for her benefit. "Anything you say, you old slave-driver."

It was a shock to see her like this, laid low and weak, but Remus wasn't about to let her know how it affected him. She needed to worry about herself, not him. It was only two days since her attack, but she had only been released from Intensive Care that morning, and Remus had come in just as soon as the nurse told him she was being allowed visitors. 

"I say that you had best be practicing," she replied, squeezing his hand. "As soon as these damned French doctors will let me go, we'll head back to England. But in the meantime you better be on the ice every day - I can tell you've been using my little weakness here to slack off."

Remus knew he probably looked like hell, and he raked a hand through his hair, then ran the palm along his stubbly cheek with a grimace. He hadn't left the hospital since arriving two days before, and even though he had eaten, it hadn't been much or the kinds of things an athlete - especially a diabetic one - ought to eat. "You know me too well, my love," he said, clinging to Minerva's hand and feeling his throat tighten with emotion. Minerva cared about him, and he cared about her, and he was happy to let her chew him out to her heart's content if it made her happy.

"I do know you too well," Minerva replied, her voice becoming soft and serious, losing its tart edge. "You've probably not left the hospital since you got here, and it shows. You're a world class athlete, Remus, and I'm a tough old girl. I've got a hospital full of people clucking over me... don't you do something to put yourself into the bed next to me, do you understand?"

"I promise. I've been eating, you know... and now that I've seen you safe I promise to go back to the hotel, shower, shave, sleep for a whole day and come back to you a proper human being."

"You've taken your shots?" Minerva asked, her eyes searching his face.

"Of course I have," he replied, relieved that it was the truth, since he was a horrible liar and she would have seen through him in an instant. She didn't need any more worry on her plate. "I'm fine, I promise, I wouldn't skip a shot for fear you'd leap up out of that bed and pummel me to within an inch of my life."

Minerva nodded, her expression relaxing into a smile. "All right then, just so we understand one another. Now, about your practice, until I am back on my feet I want you to..."

Her words broke off as her eyes widened, then narrowed as someone else entered the room. Remus turned his head, surprised to find Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorway holding a vase of pink roses and fluffy baby's breath.

Dumbledore approached the bed slowly, and Remus looked back and forth between his coach and the older man, sensing something between them- something that was both poignant and yet painful at the same time. Remus stood, feeling as though he were intruding on a private moment, that the yearning he saw in Albus Dumbledore's eyes was something for Minerva alone to see.

"Don't go, please," Dumbledore said, apparently having noticed Remus' movement. "I... Well, I have something to say to both of you, actually."

Remus blinked, startled, while Minerva looked startled and then slightly wary. Dumbledore smiled serenely, apparently feeling quite in his element, and he crossed to the windowsill to place the flowers in the sunlight.

"What do you have to say, then?" Minerva asked, and Remus was surprised at the veiled hostility in her tone. Minerva was an outspoken woman, even brusque from time to time, but never mean or rude. Her arms were crossed on her chest in a defensive posture, and her eyes were fixed on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore adjusted the vase, then turned to smile at them both. "I understand that you'll be out of commission for several weeks. Enforced rest," he began. "I would like to offer my services coaching Remus until you are back in the swing of things. Just as an interim measure, you understand... and I promise to use only your methods, not to muck about with his programs or training."

Remus was shocked at the offer. In his worry for Minerva he hadn't even considered what was going to happen to _him_ , and he honestly hadn't much cared. But his win two days before... it meant something. Not just for Remus, but for Minerva as well.

"I think..." 

"Impossible!" Minerva said shrilly, her hands clutching the blankets. She had cut through Remus' almost-acceptance, and he looked at her, stunned at her vehemence.

"Not impossible at all. I think it's necessary, Minnie," Dumbledore said, and Remus blinked again. This was becoming almost surreal. _Minnie? He called her Minnie?_ No one dared call Minerva by a pet name like that, not ever! Perhaps it was the fact that Remus was so tired and had experienced too many shocks lately, but he thought for a moment that he saw Minerva actually _smile_ at the nickname.

"He'll manage just fine on his own, and I'll be back in a couple of weeks," Minerva replied, her expression once again intractable. 

"I'm not faulting his work ethic at all, but... Minerva, please think of Remus." Dumbledore's voice was even but Remus sensed the concern was more directed at Minerva than Remus himself. "He's European champion now. The eyes of many important people are on him because Worlds are only two months away. This was his first international competition, and Worlds... you know what it's like. The pressure, the press..."

"I know," Minerva said, frowning at Dumbledore. "But I will be back with him before Worlds."

"You won't, and you know it," Dumbledore said quietly, but with a tone of command Remus had never heard before. "The doctors won't permit it. A heart attack is no child's game, Minerva McGonagall. If you return to coaching too soon you will end up killing yourself, which doesn't do anyone any good. Not you, nor Remus... or me."

Again there was a look between the two older people, one with so many layers and undertones that Remus couldn't even begin to fathom them. But then he saw something like defeat in Minerva's eyes and a suspicious glitter that might have been tears, but he couldn't be sure because she quickly turned her head away. She was silent for a long moment, and when she looked back her face was once again composed.

"What do you think, Remus?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

Remus bit his lip. Before she had objected he had been all in favor of Dumbledore's assistance while Minerva recovered, but now... now he was torn. He didn't want to upset Minerva, but he also felt as though he were getting in over his head, just as Dumbledore had said. He needed someone to rely on, someone who knew the ropes and could help Remus through obstacles. Dumbledore had a very good reputation, his coaching of Severus Snape not withstanding. If he was willing to take him on, Remus felt he would be foolish to miss the chance... especially since he was loathe to put any pressure on Minerva, even if she was able to return before Worlds.

"I think... I think I would appreciate Albus' advice," he said honestly, reaching out to take her hand again. "I want you, of course, but you need your rest without worrying about what I'm messing up without your guidance. If Albus promises not to lead me astray, it would be a help to both of us. Then, when you are ready, I'm right back to you. You got me this far, Minerva... I promised you all the way to the top, and I meant it. I owe you a win, for all you've done for me."

Minerva held Remus' eyes for a long time, looking into them searchingly. Remus wasn't certain what she was seeking, but whatever it was, apparently she found it, for she sighed and nodded. "All right, then... I consent. But I am telling both of you right now, the minute the doctors say I can coach, I'm back in charge! And woe be on both of you, if either of you go off on some harebrained idea. Like throwing quads in a program choreographed for triples."

Her tone was tart once more, and Remus was surprised to see Dumbledore flush. "Damned stubborn, that one," he muttered, and Remus chuckled, wondering if Dumbledore was referring to Severus Snape or Minerva McGonagall. Perhaps both, he decided, realizing that Minerva and Snape shared more than one trait in common. Unfortunately, a liking for Remus Lupin didn't seem to be among them.

"It's settled then," Remus said, bending to kiss Minerva's cheek. "I'm off, then, to carry out your last orders. I'll clean up and rest, then back on the ice." He paused and looked at Albus. "This afternoon, perhaps? If you have time?"

"This afternoon," Albus agreed. Remus held out his hand, which Dumbledore shook. There was a glimmer of something that looked like speculation in the old man's eyes, but Remus dismissed it as a figment of his weary and overtaxed imagination.

With a final farewell, Remus left the room, feeling fatigue wash over him. Yet he was also relieved, knowing that he wouldn't have to face the upcoming championships by himself- he would have a coach to advise him, to help him through pitfalls both on and off the ice. Dumbledore was a good coach and Remus trusted him to do his best and to treat him with as much consideration as he showed Snape. Remus knew the old man wasn't doing it solely for his benefit, but for Minerva's - the fact that she meant something to Dumbledore was very plain to see. What he couldn't fathom was what might have happened that lead to them being rivals rather than spouses.

However, Remus could only too well imagine what Severus Snape would think about sharing his coach, especially with _his_ biggest rival; even if "nothing" had happened between them, it was a nothing that Remus was certainly finding all too difficult to forget.


	11. Chapter 10

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

Severus Snape thought it was the most horrifying thing he had ever heard.

"You can't be serious!" he spat, after the initial shock of Albus' announcement had faded enough to allow him to find his voice. Severus had, in fact, stood gaping somewhat inelegantly like a fish for several moments after Dumbledore's little bombshell. "You're going to coach Lupin? He's my rival! The man who is trying to keep _me_ from winning the World Championships! He wants to see me fail, and yet you... you want to take him in like a stray dog and _help_ him beat me?"

Dumbledore looked back, his expression mild as he waited for Severus to pause long enough in his tirade to draw breath. "Yes, I am going to coach him. No, I don't believe he wishes to see you fail at all - he isn't like that. You are both grown men and I believe that training together would benefit you both a great deal. Especially you, Severus. He has beaten you once in competition, and, although I will admit to there being a certain amount of bad luck involved on your part with that ill-conceived quad, the fact is... he's a better skater than you are. He might have won even if you had managed to land the jump."

Severus felt murderous fury rising within him. "How dare you insult me like that, Albus? You think he's better than I am? So that's what you've really wanted all along, isn't it - to coach Lupin instead of me? Tell me, did you give his coach a heart attack so that you could move in on him?"

There was something almost like a flash of pain in the old man's eyes, but Albus was a master at controlling his emotions. No more than a slight sharpness could be heard in his voice as he answered Severus' outrageous comment. "Of course not, Severus, and such words do not become you. I offered to help him for much the same reason that I wanted to help you. He needs it. One of the responsibilities of holding the position I do in the skating world is to pass on my knowledge and experience, and to give my help to the succeeding generations that follow- to build better skaters. I am not helping him financially - I am just here to give him encouragement." Albus' expression became one of disappointment. "You benefiting by his misfortune is hardly the best spirit of competition, my boy. Winning against him when he's down cheapens your own victory, don't you think?"

"I don't care! Damn it all, Albus, you've lost your mind!" 

"No, I haven't," Dumbledore replied, his tone even. "Top-level skaters often train together, you know that. It is proven to be effective to have a training partner, to have someone to match yourself against and learn from. It isn't going to hurt you, Severus, other than your stubborn pride, and it might help. You want to win more than anything else... it would be foolish for you to lose any opportunity that might improve your own skating. Why do I get the feeling that you object to Lupin, but you probably wouldn't have to Schramm or even Bobrin? Is there something personal going on there that I should know about?"

Severus closed his mouth so quickly that his teeth clacked, and he gave Albus a glare full of suspicion. There was no way the old man could know what had happened in the shower that night, and Severus couldn't allow Dumbledore - or anyone else - to find out about it. He knew Lupin wouldn't say anythingbecause he held one of Lupin's secrets - two secrets, if he counted the fact that Lupin had obviously enjoyed what had happened against that cold, wet wall...

_And now is not the time to be thinking of that,_ Severus told himself sternly. _Think, for once, instead of just reacting. That's what got you into this mess in the first place._

Slowly Severus calmed down, forcing himself to put aside his anger and think with the cold logic of a competitor who desired to win, no matter what the cost. Dark eyes still glittering with anger, Severus scowled but knew that Albus had a point about having a training partner. Knowing it did nothing to make it any more palatable, yet Severus concluded he had no choice but to swallow the bitter pill - Albus was not only his coach, but his financial backer as well. Without Dumbledore, Severus had no chance at all... and he _had_ to have his chance, even if it meant accepting Remus Lupin as a temporary training partner. However, that didn't mean he would go down without a fight. "I don't need him. I watched him skate, and I don't think I can learn a thing from him, despite all your artsy ideas."

"I thought you wanted to win at any cost," Albus replied mildly, although there was still a watchful look in his blue eyes. "I am your coach, and I have determined that this is best for you, as well as for him. That's it, Severus... I think we need to determine here and now if we continue or not."

Severus held Albus' stare for several moments. Now that it had been stated baldly what the consequences would be, it was out of his hands. So be it; if he lost the World Championships to Lupin, it would be Albus' fault entirely, and Severus would have no qualms about telling the press so. "Fine. Have it your way. But I don't have to like it, and I don't."

"We'll see... we'll see," Albus said, seeming to relax as the tension between them diffused. "Now... back on the ice, and let's see you run through that combination again. I still think you can get more height on the second jump."

Disgruntled, Severus skated back out to center ice, taking up his training at the point where it been interrupted by Albus' calm announcement that Lupin was going to be under his tutelage while his coach recovered from her heart attack. If Severus hadn't known better, he might have thought Albus had engineered this whole thing.

Lupin was a danger, and even more so, now. What had happened after the European Championships had been... well, Severus wasn't quite certain what it had been, other than a huge mistake. He had wanted to humiliate Lupin, to teach him a lesson, perhaps even frighten him. It was all Lupin's fault, after all; his fault that Severus had lost, and his fault that Severus had become even angrier. Lupin had goaded him, mocked him, tried to turn the tables and humiliate Severus instead. He had even dared to bring up the incident with Malfoy, and that had been the proverbial straw that had broken the camel's back, sending Severus from anger into fury. When he had kissed Lupin, he had expected outrage, which he would have laughed at, mocked, and used to make Lupin feel small and insignificant. 

What he hadn't expected was for Lupin to melt into his embrace, caressing him and kissing him back with an intensity that had stolen Severus' breath.

Frowning, Severus tried to force away the memories, but it was no good. He signaled to Albus that he was finished with his practice and stomped off the ice without a backward glance. Severus had to get away before his mind replayed for the thousandth time what had followed the kiss... the way Lupin had looked at him with utter desire, the way that look had enflamed Severus as nothing had before. It had driven him over the edge into recklessness, made him give into the lust that had flared up between them so suddenly and intensely. His own need to possess Lupin had almost staggered him, and he had been powerless to resist the naked man in his arms. Naked and so bloody damned desirable...

"No," Severus told himself, using the verbalization in a further attempt to forget what had happened, to drive away the memories of how Lupin had felt, how he had sounded, how he had tasted... the way he had matched Severus so perfectly, passion for passion. He knew Lupin had held nothing back, giving and receiving with total abandonment to the fierce desire of the moment. Severus had never experienced anything like it.

Nor had anyone ever looked at him afterward the way that Lupin had, with a drowsy smile of satiation and passion-hazed eyes beckoning Severus back for another searing kiss, Severus' name on his lips like a prayer. It had rocked Severus to his bones, frightened him in a way that nothing had ever frightened him before.

_This won't work. I hate him. He hates me. This will be a nightmare. Albus is a spiteful old bastard with nothing better to do than make me miserable. Lupin will wreck everything, and then where will I be?_

Anger was a good cover for his fear, and Severus clung to it like a drowning man clings to any flotsam tossed in his path in order to keep his head above water. Anger at Lupin, anger at Albus, at Malfoy, at the world - anger was something he understood. It was safe, much safer than other emotions, for it gave him a clear path to follow.

Severus seethed inside, holding on to his fury, his purpose... but there was nothing he could do at the moment other than wait to see what would happen. Quitting was still tempting, but unfortunately it wasn't an option. 

When it came right down to it, beating Lupin was Severus' _only_ option.


	12. Chapter 11

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

The size of an Olympic ice rink is 30.48 meters wide by 60.96 meters long. As large as that seemed when one was standing still, it could feel rather small when flying across the surface at 2 kilometers per minute, preparing to launch oneself into the air by converting the horizontal vector to vertical momentum with the tensing of leg muscles and the calculated tap of a toe pick. The sides of the rink could approach quickly, almost frighteningly so to the novice, although years of experience gave one the ability to judge almost instinctively the maximum distance that could be traversed before launching from the ice, executing the precise number of rotations and landing at the correct relative angle to allow the residual energy from the set-up to carry one to open ice, rather than into the boards. For each jump an Olympic-caliber skater executed in a program, there were thousands of attempts under his belt, all of his jumps practiced, perfected to take advantage of every foot of ice, to wring the speed required from each inch that passed beneath his skates.

When two skaters were trying to avoid each other, somehow that open ice became as tiny as a postage stamp.

Like all skaters, Remus was used to sharing the ice with others in warm-ups, and even in practices when needed. He knew how to avoid others, how to check the ice from the corner of his eye to make certain he wasn't about to launch himself into a nearby skater who might cross his path. He normally ignored the interruptions, setting up again and preparing to go on with his skating, but the fact that it was Severus Snape occupying the same ice kept distracting him from his purpose.

At first Remus had chalked it up to his fatigue following Minerva's heart attack, given that since his parent's death she was the closest thing to family Remus had left. Compounded with that were his own mixed emotions about Snape in the aftermath of the... episode... in the shower. It had been nearly two weeks since then, however, and now that they were back in England and Remus had caught up on his missed sleep, it was no longer as easy for him to dismiss his awareness of Snape, both on and off the ice. Nor was it easy to admit to himself that at some point during that time, his thoughts toward the other man had shifted from "rival" to "training partner" -- and from "Snape" to "Severus". 

He told himself sternly that one unacknowledged and regrettable encounter shouldn't lead to him softening toward Severus, particular when they had parted on such a horrid note. But Remus had never been one to hold a grudge, and that final look, the pain he had seen in Severus' eyes, haunted him - as did the attraction that he still felt every time Severus was near, attraction that had only grown despite Remus' intention to forget what had happened. Severus had obviously put it far from his own mind, given the cold remoteness in his eyes every time he looked at Remus, or the curt, barely civil monosyllables with which he answered any question, either from Remus or Dumbledore.

The situation had held static for days now, and Remus had tried to let the incident go, to not care, to not even _think_ about his encounter with Severus. It was difficult, however, when Remus could remember all too clearly how it had felt, how the heat had risen between them with such instantaneous strength, like a flame struck from a match. It had been one of the most intense experiences of Remus' life, and it was very hard to chase the memory away.

Especially when his subconscious simply wouldn't allow it.

Remus' dreams had taken a decidedly erotic turn, starring Severus as lover, seducer, even target of Remus' own seductions. Every night he was treated to an indulgence of his deepest fantasies, dreams that had him waking shaken and yearning. The fact that Severus had entirely forgotten the incident and would never mention it again only seemed to add fuel to the fire, as if Remus' own mind was tormenting him, punishing him for feeling something that was quite obviously unrequited.

His skating had suffered, not to a great degree but enough that Remus was well aware that he had lost ground. He couldn't become one with his music any longer, haunted now by passion-filled dark eyes. There was no doubt that Dumbledore must have suspected something, but his substitute coach said not a word about the botched jumps and awkwardness of Remus' normally fluid movements. Perhaps after a win all champions suffered some sort of let-down or something, but Remus knew that wasn't the case. The only thing wrong with his skating was six feet of glowering intensity who stood not ten meters away talking to Dumbledore, but who might as well have been as unattainable as the moon.

Why someone who obviously hated him could arouse him so much was definitely a frustration. That his own feelings might go beyond purely physical, however, was absolutely horrifying.

Clenching his jaw, Remus forced himself into a straight-line footwork series, trying to school both his mind and body into the forms that had propelled him to victory. From edge to edge on his blades, one foot, two, pivot and turn, stroke and spin, repeated again and again until he could think of nothing else beyond the next movement. Especially not brooding eyes and a deep voice hoarse with desire.

"Remus! Will you come here, please?" Albus' voice broke into his thoughts, and Remus was actually relieved to abandon his solo efforts at distraction and skate over to where Severus stood next to their shared coach, his arms crossed over his chest and a look of extreme displeasure on his face. Albus, by contrast, as smiling faintly, and Remus ignored Severus as best as he could, addressing himself to the old man.

"Yes, Albus?"

"Severus here is having some difficulty with his transitions," Albus replied. His tone was quite matter-of-fact, but out of the corner of his eye Remus caught Severus' fierce scowl. "He knows the choreography, but it doesn't flow smoothly or naturally. You've seen his program, after the triple-axel and before the triple-toe? Can you shadow him, then offer him some advice on what he should do?"

"Of course," Remus said, turning to offer Severus a smile that revealed nothing of his own inner turmoil. Severus continued to glare at him for a long moment before throwing Albus a look of disdain and skating off abruptly toward the middle of the ice.

Remus blinked, then looked at Albus, who was wearing a smirk that was far too knowing for Remus' piece of mind. He swallowed, then followed in Severus' wake, taking up a position behind Severus and following him across the ice, watching closely as Severus went through the steps that had Albus concerned.

The jumps Severus performed were, as usual, stunning, but the skating in-between seemed oddly stiff- Severus was already tensing himself for the second jump even as he landed the first. The man had a natural grace, but it seemed to Remus that he wasn't giving in to it, as though he only considered the time between jumps as useless filler.

"You need to relax," Remus said, looking into Severus' eyes as they faced each other from only a few feet away, the closest they had been since their fateful encounter. "You hold your body too stiffly, you don't let the movements flow into each other. You do them..." Remus paused, frowning as he thought of a good analogy, then nodding as he found the one he wanted. "You do them like a wind-up toy, in a way. The movements are there, but you put no life in them. It's a little bit jarring, especially given the fire of your jumps."

Remus hadn't really expected his description to be met with equanimity, but the cold glare Severus gave him was positively bone-chilling. "Is that so?" Severus snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "I suppose you can do it better?"

"The jumps? No. You jump better than I do," Remus said evenly. His was too self-honest not to admit the truth of the situation, and anyway, admitting his shortcomings did not bother him. "I jump well, but you are brilliant at it. It's everything else that I do better than you do."

"Is that so?" The sarcasm practically dripped from Severus' tone, and Remus saw the coldness in those dark eyes heating up with anger. "Pray tell, how would _you_ do it, then?"

Remus only smiled in response to Severus' nastiness. "Sure, I'll show you," he said blithely, and then with an impudent wink that earned a stare of disbelief from Severus, he skated off.

Somehow the blatant challenge in Severus' words enabled Remus to focus within, to call upon that part of himself that set him apart from others, the part the judges had seen and rewarded so lavishly. It had deserted him for the last two weeks, but somehow he found it now, and a slight smile curved his lips as he began to hear Severus' music in his head. It was a strong piece with a deep bass beat that Severus obviously used to time himself, but there was a more subtle piano line that Remus liked in it. That line was what he played in his head as he flashed across the ice, closing his mind to the presence of Severus behind him. 

The set-up for the triple-axel was done with a flourish, although Remus doubled the jump out of caution, as well as to maintain more momentum as he came out of the jump. He landed neatly, almost lightly, and put in a small, skipping step as he moved his arms in a graceful arc, emphasizing the melody only he could hear. Then the triple-toe was upon him, and Remus threw it almost as an afterthought, a natural extension of the way his body had been interpreting the song.

Turning, Remus looked at Severus, grinning as he panted slightly from the exertion. He raised a brow as Severus watched him impassively. There were thoughts behind those fathomless eyes - thoughts that Remus couldn't read - and tension in the set of Severus' shoulders, almost as though he were fighting an internal battle. It went on for several long moments, and Remus wondered if Severus were either going to launch into a tirade, or perhaps turn and skate off in a temper. 

Their gazes locked, and something flickered in Severus' eyes. Something Remus thought resembled the desire he had seen when Severus had kissed him, but it was gone so quickly Remus couldn't be certain. Severus' voice, when he spoke, was neutral, but the words surprised Remus so much that he stood gaping, wondering if he had heard correctly, or if it was only the wishful echo of his own thoughts.

"Show me again."

"Certainly," Remus replied, his smile widening as he felt a totally idiotic lightening of his heart. No doubt Severus would storm off in anger, but he wasn't doing it yet, and he beckoned to Severus as he started off once again across the ice.

Both of them seemed to have forgotten Albus Dumbledore, and so neither of them noticed when he smiled to himself and quietly left the rink.


	13. Chapter 12

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

"No, not like that," Lupin said, skating toward Severus with a slight frown on his face. "You're tensing up again, thinking instead of _feeling_ the music. You have to relax, Severus. That's the only way this is going to work."

Severus scowled, regarding Lupin with a look that was annoyed, but not actively hostile. Somehow in the last week since Lupin had started helping Severus with his artistry, the anger Severus felt at Lupin had lessened into something almost like grudging respect. It was hard to maintain his fury when the man was so damned determined to be _helpful_. Even though Severus' pride made it difficult for him to accept that perhaps he might need the assistance, his overwhelming desire to win made it equally hard for him to turn down any advantage that could give him the edge he needed to attain the victory he so desperately wanted. So, a sort of professional working relationship had developed between them, wary on Severus' part, but seemingly completely open and friendly on Lupin's.

When Lupin reached him, he took Severus' left arm, changing the angle of how Severus was holding it into something more fluid and natural. "When you skate, try not to think. Just be," Lupin said, and, against his will, Severus felt his lips twitch. Lupin said the phrase so often that Severus wondered if Lupin were even aware of it.

Severus didn't stop to ask himself what Lupin was getting out of helping him; the man was just the kind of earnest, do-gooding sort who liked to help others, even at the expense of himself. Despite his relaxed attitude, Lupin was just as driven to win as Severus was, and Severus had no doubt that Lupin's help ended the moment they hit competition ice. Which was fine with Severus - even though his feelings about Lupin had changed, Lupin was still his primary rival, and Severus wanted no quarter given in proving which of them was the better skater.

"Unfortunately, Lupin, unlike you, I happen to have a brain. It is impossible for me _not_ to think," Severus replied, his tone mildly sarcastic. 

"Then think about something else other than the jump," Lupin replied easily, apparently unfazed by Severus' mild reproof. "Think about the music, think about how it makes you feel. Listen to the melody, to the harmonies. Just... let it take you wherever it does."

Severus rolled his eyes, but Lupin ignored it and gestured to Albus to start the music again. The passage they were practicing began, and Severus started his sequence, trying to do what Lupin suggested, but finding himself unable to stop analyzing every stroke of his blades, every gesture of his arms and turn of his head. He barely heard the music, and he could feel himself tensing up before the jump, executing it somewhat awkwardly. He two-footed the landing, stopped abruptly, and looked back at Lupin with more than a hint of frustration.

"Damn it. This isn't working. It just isn't how I skate, Lupin."

Pulling a hand through his hair, Severus watched as Lupin skated toward him, frowning thoughtfully. "That was worse," Lupin said, shaking his head and biting his lower lip as he tried to work out a solution.

"Obviously," Severus snorted in derision. "Perhaps we should give it up. You have helped with my choreography and positioning..." His tone was begrudging, as though he hated to admit it. "...so I should just get on with practicing _my_ way. There are only five weeks left to Worlds."

Lupin looked up at him. "I just wish I knew how to show you how to do it. So that you wouldn't seem so much like a marionette..." Suddenly Lupin stopped, his eyes widening for a moment before he smiled widely. "Wait, that's it! Come back over here to the starting position - I know what to do!"

With a wary frown, Severus followed Lupin back to where he had begun, taking up his pose - one arm straight over his head, wrist and fingers in a more relaxed position thanks to Lupin's tutelage, his other arm crossed over his waist, hand at his hip. His body leaned to the side, and one foot was crossed behind the other, the whole line of his body meant to be a graceful arc. Lupin nodded, then stood in front of Severus and turned his back. Reaching behind, Lupin took Severus' lowered arm and wrapped it around his own waist, and Severus, startled at the contact, pulled away from what had suddenly become a rather intimate position.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?" he asked, eyes narrowed, arms folded over his chest.

"I'm going to _show_ you how the music feels," Lupin said. His tone was as mild as ever, but Severus thought he saw a flash of something that might have been hurt in Lupin's eyes. 

"Show me?" Severus felt suddenly wary, and he wondered what Lupin was up to. "What do you mean by that? How do you think you can possibly show me a _feeling_?"

Lupin smiled. "I used to help Lily like this. Lily Evans - do you remember her? She left skating a few years ago to get married. We practiced together, even thought about giving up singles and going into pairs, but I'm not physically built to do the lifts. But I taught her to feel the music, and I can teach you. If you'll let me."

Severus was honestly surprised. Lupin had thought about going into pairs skating? He remembered Lily Evans, a vivacious redhead who had given up skating in favor of marriage. He had even met her once or twice, back when they had been teenagers. He didn't understand what Lupin meant to do, however, and for some reason the thought of Lupin standing against his body was disturbing in a way that Severus didn't want to examine too closely.

"What are you planning to do?" he asked finally while Lupin watched him with an air of patience that annoyingly reminded Severus of Dumbledore.

"It's simple, really," Remus said. "We'll skate together, me leading you. You close your eyes, not thinking about the movements, and let me guide you through them. You concentrate on how I move your body, and how that fits with the music. Like a marionette, sort of."

"That's ridiculous!" Severus scoffed, glaring at Lupin. The man had obviously lost his mind, and Severus wasn't about to do any such thing. Let Lupin lead him around like some sort of puppet? Obviously Lupin had gone 'round the bend.

"It's not!" Lupin insisted, looking at Severus with wide, earnest eyes. "Trust me, it works. Or it did for Lily, I swear. What's wrong with it, Severus? What's really the issue? Are you afraid of me touching you, or afraid that Albus might actually be right?"

"What?" Severus gaped at Lupin in disbelief for a brief moment before the challenging words caused him to scowl. Lupin was goading him, he knew it, but he also _couldn't_ react to it. Lupin would mock him, especially after Severus had made it clear - on multiple occasions no less - that Severus was only accepting Lupin's tutelage because Albus insisted upon it, and that Severus himself didn't care what Lupin did. Which wasn't the entire truth, and Severus was aware that Lupin knew it, but still... appearances had to be maintained.

"Fine," Severus snapped, clenching his jaw as he surrendered to the inevitable, staring hard at his rival. "Just don't try anything funny, Lupin, or I'll..."

Something again flashed in Lupin's eyes, but this time it definitely wasn't hurt. In fact, Severus seemed to be able to read the thought as clearly as if Lupin had spoken it.

_Or you'll what? Shag me against the shower wall? Be my guest._

"I won't try anything," Lupin replied quietly, and Severus blinked, brows drawn down in a severe frown as he seethed at himself. 

He was imagining things, and he didn't like it, not one bit. Lupin had never mentioned what had happened between them that night, nor had Severus. So far as he knew, Lupin had dismissed the entire incident completely. When Lupin touched him, as when he had adjusted Severus' arm in the pose, it was impersonal, professional even, with no lingering caress of fingers or teasing glances, nor even any abrupt withdrawal from the contact as though he could hardly bear to touch Severus. It was neutral, impassive, and so Severus gave himself a vicious mental shake and told himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. Lupin didn't care one whit about him, they were rivals, and Severus had best remember it for his own sanity.

"Fine!" Severus bit out the word, then watched as Lupin smiled and came back over, standing close before turning his back and glancing at Severus over his shoulder.

"We'll try it without music first. Just so that you can get used to letting me lead. We'll do a simple straight line, no turns or anything. Now, put your arms out, and just follow along with me."

With a trepidation he had no intention of showing, Severus put his arms out stiffly at his sides. Lupin mirrored the action, then to Severus' surprise placed his hands in Severus', back of his hands to Severus' palms, lacing their fingers together.

Lupin was pressed against him, the curve of his arse against Severus' groin, back snuggled against Severus' chest. The top of Lupin's head came up to Severus' nose, and the soft strands of Lupin's honey-brown hair brushed Severus' cheek. At this range Severus noticed that there were strands of grey mixed in, making it look lighter than it was. 

It was an intimate stance, and Severus found that he was holding himself rigidly. It wasn't that he didn't want to touch Lupin - he did, God knew, and he hated himself for it - but he wasn't about to let Lupin know how this was affecting him.

"Ready?" Lupin asked, then chuckled. "Relax, Severus, I'm not going to bite. On three... push off on your left foot. One, two, three!"

Severus obeyed, and they moved off awkwardly across the ice. He could smell the clean scent of Lupin's shampoo, feel the warmth of his body, and it reminded Severus sharply of Lupin being naked in his arms in that damned shower, body firm and willing and tight...

"Relax," Lupin repeated, sweeping their joined hands in a smooth, graceful arc. "See? We can't do a lot of moves, but it gets easy once you get the hang of it. Slowly, smoothly... no rush."

It took a few minutes of gliding around together, but finally it felt less awkward. Lupin announced each movement before performing it, Severus mirroring it as precisely as possible. There were a few tangles at first, as their skates caught or clacked together, but within minutes that was over, and their motion smoothed out. Severus found himself quite surprised at how well they fit together, how he could, after a relatively short time, predict Lupin's movements by the way the muscles tightened just before Lupin moved an arm or leg, or how they were going to turn by the way Lupin swayed his hips. He began to be fascinated by how it felt, and he forgot to hold himself away from Lupin, his body relaxing of its own accord. After that it seemed even more natural, and when they stopped, he was almost disappointed.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Lupin asked, pulling away and turning around, his eyes full of approval, cheeks flushed with exertion. "You did very well, actually - I knew you were more graceful than you let on."

"Is that so?" Severus asked, feeling a little miffed at Lupin's implication that he had thought at some point that Severus _wasn't_ graceful. "Are we done, then? To be honest, I don't see how that is supposed to help my skating." _Only my libido..._

"No, we're not done, we've just started." There was something mischievous in Lupin's eyes, and Severus' narrowed. "Oh, don't look like that, Severus. Now we're going to put it to music. What we just did was learning to move together, so that now I can show you how to feel the music."

Lupin glanced over to the side of the rink, where Albus sat, watching with interest. "Albus, how about some music? Not Severus' regular music, it's too fast. Something slow, maybe, if that same album. I listened to the whole thing before, there's a slower movement."

Albus smiled. "Yes, there is. One moment..." The coach fiddled with the cassette player they were using for practice, moving through the tape and pausing to listen to snippets of music. Then he found what he was looking for. "All right, I have it. Ready when you are."

Lupin smiled and beckoned to Severus to join him. They took up the same position they had started in, and Lupin nodded to Albus. When the music began they moved, and Severus wondered what in the world he had gotten himself into.

The music was from the same album as Severus' long program piece, a related bit that was much slower but had the same power. Only instead of being desperate, almost driven as it was in his piece, this song was slower, sensual, the beat a deeper, move a seductive echo like that of a beating heart. Lupin propelled them across the ice, and what had seemed intimate before was transmuted by the music into something definitely erotic.

Severus wanted to pull away from Lupin, to go storming off in a temper, wondering if this had been a trick, something Lupin was doing deliberately to tease him. But Lupin didn't - _couldn't_ \- know about Severus' attraction to him, and if Severus did end this madness, it would likely make Lupin suspect that there _was_ something bothering Severus. After all, they had skated together with no problems only a few moments before... changing his mind now would only make him look like a fool.

"I think you're insane," Severus said, hoping that Lupin would decide to stop this on his own, so that Severus could save face. Unfortunately, it didn't seem that Lupin was any more willing to give in than Severus was.

"Close your eyes," Lupin murmured. "This song is perfect, Severus. Don't think. Don't look. Just move with it, move with me. Let it fill you. _Feel_ it."

Lupin _had_ to know how seductive his words sounded, and Severus again had to resist the urge to move away, lest he reveal too much. _But this is Lupin's damned idea, after all_ , he thought with a sudden feeling of recklessness. _Let's see if_ he _is as unaffected as he seems to be._

It was difficult for a man like Severus to relinquish control, but finally, with a grumbled sigh, he gave up. Closing his eyes, he allowed Lupin to take control, telling himself that if anything at all happened that he didn't like, he'd make Lupin pay. He wasn't precisely sure how, but he trusted his own resourcefulness to come up with something appropriate. "Fine," he muttered. "Go ahead, my eyes are closed."

"Good," Lupin murmured, so softly that if they had not been pressed closely together Severus would never have heard it. Lupin said no more, but pushed off, holding on to Severus and guiding him as they had done before.

It was decidedly odd for Severus, not just skating with someone else, but letting that person lead him to the extent that he couldn't even see what was going on. He felt a brief, instinctive surge of panic at the sensation, but he tamped it down ruthlessly, not wanting to see a knowing, superior smile on Lupin's face. Lupin couldn't hurt him, wouldn't _dare_ allow him to come to harm, not with Albus there watching every move. Besides, despite the fact that they were competitors, Severus was quite certain that Lupin, unlike Malfoy, was not the type to think that a tainted victory was any kind of a win at all.

They moved with slow, sure strokes across the rink, Lupin raising and lowering their entwined hands, or directing Severus with quiet words as they repeated many of the same movements they had done previously. Without his sight, Severus found that he was paying attention to other things, to the way that Lupin seemed to pick out the subtle nuances of the music to emphasize, rather than just skating along to the beat. Severus began to be caught up in the experiment, in how Lupin directed them into an interpretation that was very different than anything Severus would have done himself. The world slipped away unnoticed, as Severus focused solely on the music, the movement, and the sensuality of the man in his arms.

Warmth stole over Severus, a sensation almost as though he were floating. He was aware of every brush of Lupin's body against his, of how their hands were intertwined, of the way that their hearts and breaths seemed to be in perfect rhythm with each other, as though they had skated this way a million times before. It was simultaneously uplifting and incredibly arousing, sensual and somehow as intimate as making love. Severus had never experienced anything like it before.

The music ended, fading off into silence, and slowly they slid to a halt. Their hands parted, but Lupin turned, still standing close to Severus. When he opened his eyes, Severus looked down to find Lupin gazing back at him, face flushed and damp, soft strands of hair clinging to his cheeks and the long, clean line of his throat. His golden eyes were wide, and Severus wasn't surprised to feel, when their bodies brushed together, that the thinness of the tights they both were wearing did nothing to hide the fact that they were both aroused.

Their breaths mingled as they continued to stare at each other. It would be so easy to lean down, to capture those temptingly parted lips, and suddenly Severus wanted nothing more than to do just that, to claim Remus' mouth, to pull Remus into his arms and crush him against his chest, to make him gasp and cry out as he had the night that now seemed all too long ago. Severus ached to do it, to bring them both to the cliff's edge of shattering pleasure, then hurl them over it without thought, without any consideration for past, present, or future. He could almost taste Lupin on his lips already, and he could tell from the way Lupin's eyes darkened that Lupin wanted it, too. Lupin wasn't nearly as controlled or unaffected as he pretended to be, and the evidence of it gave Severus a great deal of satisfaction, so much so that he bent his head, his lips descending toward Remus'...

"That was amazing, dear boys," Albus called out, his cheerful voice breaking through the fog of desire that had surrounded them, seeming to close them off from everyone else in the world. But the words brought reality crashing back with a vengeance, and they broke apart abruptly, almost guiltily. Severus glanced up, looking with something like panic around the nearly empty rink, before turning without another look at Lupin and skating toward Albus. He knew his own cheeks were flushed, but he would blame it on exertion.

"I'm finished for today," Severus said, keeping his tone deliberately casual as he stepped off the ice. He could hear Lupin skating up behind him, but he didn't turn around, instead reaching for his guards and covering his blades. "I'll see you tomorrow Albus..." he dared to turn slightly, looking back at Remus. Their eyes met for a moment, then Severus turned away once more. "Lupin."

With that, Severus stalked off toward the locker rooms, needing to put distance between himself and what had _almost_ happened out there on the ice, in front of Albus and everyone. He told himself that he was happy that Lupin didn't follow after him...

He just wished he could make himself believe it.


	14. Chapter 13

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

"It's so... big."

Remus heard a snort behind him, and he flushed slightly as he realized how unsophisticated his comment about Albus' home sounded. He turned, watching as Severus shrugged off the duffel bag slung over his shoulder, letting it fall to the inlaid marble floor of the foyer with a soft thud. The case that held his skates, however, Severus put down with the air of a man handling a cherished child, and Remus smiled as he gave his own luggage much the same treatment. 

"It's been in the family a long time," Albus replied, looking around the large, airy entrance hall with a fond smile. "It had fallen into a bit of disrepair over the years, but once I got the family fortunes turned around I had it repaired. My brother, Aberforth, is a bit of a bounder, you know. He went off to Australia to raise goats, taking his part of the inheritance with him. Nice chap, really, but he has no use for a fixed address. Mansion or hovel, however, it's just my home... and you both are welcome in it."

"A castle, more like," Severus said sourly. "It must cost the earth to heat. Trust you to be a baronet on top of everything else." He gave Dumbledore an aggrieved look, which caused Remus to chuckle outright.

"I'm just beginning to think there isn't anything Albus can't do," Remus replied, giving the older man a smile of gratitude. "I appreciate it very much."

"Pish," Albus replied mildly. "Now, let's see... Mr. Filch is the caretaker - not a butler - and Madam Pomfrey is the housekeeper. Oh, and you'll no doubt see Hagrid about, but don't be frightened. He's a giant of a man, but gentle as a lamb. He usually stays out in the stables. Oh, yes, here is Madam Pomfrey now. Poppy, my dear, this is Severus Snape, and Remus Lupin. They'll be staying with us for a few weeks before the World competition."

"Hullo, gentlemen," Madam Pomfrey greeted them, a smile wreathing her pleasantly plain, middle-aged features. "I can show you to your rooms. Have you ever been to Scotland before? No? Well, I do hope that you've packed plenty of warm clothing. It's beautiful here, but you've come at the very coldest time of year."

"Considering we're skaters, that can only be for the good," Severus remarked dryly, and Madam Pomfrey gave him an arch look that amused Remus greatly. Severus might be used to intimidating people, but it was obvious that Poppy Pomfrey wasn't going to fold in the face of his sarcasm.

"Very well, then. If you'll bring your bags, I'll show you upstairs. Luncheon will be in an hour, tea at four, and dinner at eight. And don't give me those looks, I've been cooking for skaters for thirty years, I quite know what an athlete's diet is like. I also know that skipping meals is no better for you lot than anyone else. Now come along, Albus said that Miss McGonagall's ambulance will arrive directly, and I need to get you settled before then."

Remus turned to pick up his things, and gave Albus a rather anxious look as they all trooped up the wide, curving marble staircase. "Minerva will be all right, don't you think? I wanted to ride up with her, but she wouldn't have it. To be honest, I'm amazed that you were able to convince her to accept your hospitality, so much so that I wasn't going to argue particulars in case she got cranky and changed her mind!"

Dumbledore's smile was slightly wistful. "I think she accepted the invitation more for your sake, dear boy, than her own. Now that she is out of hospital, she'll be chomping at the bit to get back to work, and I imagine she's afraid I've messed up all her careful training. But so long as she is here, I can see that she is taken care of as she deserves."

There was a look in Dumbledore's eyes that Remus understood quite well, and he smiled, before glancing back at Severus to see if he had caught the nuances of the relationship between their coaches. But Severus' eyes were unreadable, and a moment later Poppy was stopping in front of a door, opening it and gesturing Remus inside. "This is your room, Mr. Lupin... Mr. Snape, you are right next door, and you share a bath between. Towels are on the racks, and if there is anything you need, I'm generally in the kitchen."

Giving them all a smile, Madam Pomfrey excused herself and moved away down the hall. Albus smiled, watching her, then turned back to his guests. "Why don't you both get cleaned up, and then I can show you the rest of the place. We'll have to drive to the rink tomorrow for your practices, but there is a very large pond outside, and Hagrid keeps it smooth for my use. It's not good for program skating, of course, but for a little practice it will do just fine."

The others left, and Remus turned to his suitcase, unpacking with quick efficiency. After being cooped up in planes and cars for the better part of the day, Remus was eager to walk around and stretch his legs. It was wonderful of Albus to have invited them to stay at his home in Scotland for the last few weeks before the competition, but the journey had been very long. He was also excited to see Minerva again, and pleased that she would have very little to worry about. Perhaps once here, she would fall prey to the charm of being in a castle, and let it work its magic on her... for it was obvious to Remus, at least, that Albus Dumbledore was in the mood for romance, and when it came to Remus' coach, the older man definitely had a fairytale ending in mind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Icy air drew the breath from Remus' lungs as he stepped out into the night, pulling the door shut behind him as quietly as possible. No doubt everyone's rooms were far enough from the foyer that they wouldn't hear him leaving, but he didn't want to take a chance of disturbing them, especially Minerva. She needed her rest after the long, tiring trip up from London.

It was after midnight, but Remus found himself unable to sleep, over-stimulated by the events of the day. Fortunately the moon was nearly full, and its pure, silver light reflected off the deep snow, making it as bright as a lingering twilight. He carried his skates in their case, hoping to find the pond that Albus had mentioned and work off some of his excess energy before trying to sleep. Long experience had taught him that if he tried to rest when his mind was moving at lightspeed he would only end up tossing and turning the entire night. Since Albus expected them to skate in the morning, he needed to burn off the adrenaline now and then rest so that he would be fresh enough not to totally botch his practice.

To his relief, it was easy enough to find the pond from the directions Albus had given earlier in the evening. It was behind the house, and there was even a small sort of cabana standing next to it, which no doubt housed the equipment Albus' groundskeeper used to smooth the ice. Remus moved toward it eagerly, and within minutes he had donned his skates and was gliding over the frozen water, feeling himself finally beginning to relax after days of tension, tension that had begun from the moment Severus had _almost_ kissed him right in the middle of the rink.

Remus wasn't certain which of them had been more surprised by the outcome of their skating together, Severus or himself. He had begun to think that Severus didn't feel any attraction to him at all, that the incident in the shower had been nothing but a fluke that was never to be repeated. But after they had skated, when he had turned around and pressed against Severus, there had been no denying how it had affected either of them. He wanted Severus, and Severus wanted him, so much so that the world had seemed to disappear in that moment, closing in around the two of them until Severus had leaned toward him, both of them intent on a kiss that would have shaken the pillars of heaven. A kiss that had been damnably but wisely interrupted by Albus, who had caused Remus, at least, a great deal of frustration, but who had probably also saved them from a scandal that could have cost both of them their careers.

It was no secret that there were quite a number of gay men in figure skating, but each and every one of them knew that if they were not circumspect about it, public opinion could come down upon them in a heartbeat and strip away any hope of ever winning a competition. For all that it was 1983, the world still didn't seem ready for most gays - particularly ones with public standing - to come out of the closet and be open about it. That one kiss, as much as Remus had wanted it, could have destroyed them both.

Severus must have sensed it, too, for they hadn't skated together again, and had been polite but distant to each other despite the fact that Remus desperately wanted to know how Severus felt about him, about what had almost happened... and, most importantly, how Severus might feel about continuing from where they had been interrupted. It was damned hard, however, to get an answer to that question when they were never alone together, when practices took up all of their days and left them exhausted at night. Not so exhausted, however, that Remus hadn't had time to dream about it, and over the course of the week, the accumulated effects had conspired to leave him restless and somewhat depressed.

Not to mention so sleepless that he was skating on an unfamiliar pond in the middle of the night rather than continue to think about the untouchable man lying asleep in the room right next door.

The cold was numbing the tips of his ears and nose, but Remus didn't care. He had carefully noted where the edges of the clean ice were, and he circled around it again and again, building speed. When his velocity was sufficient he snapped off a clean triple-toe, exulting in the freedom he felt in that quick release of energy. Then he went back to circling, skating a seemingly random series of movements while listening to a song in his head - the song that he and Severus had skated to together. 

They had fit so perfectly, seeming to move as one being, one flesh. It had taken Remus' breath away, had made his entire body tingle with awareness and arousal, with a longing to possess Severus in every way possible. Somehow those few brief moments on the ice had been the most erotic Remus had ever experienced, and now he tried to recapture that feeling, that exquisite, fleeting perfection that his body and heart both craved to know again.

So focused was he on the memory of Severus' body next to his, on the sensual melody playing in his mind, that Remus started and nearly fell when suddenly a firm torso was pressed against his from behind, and his hands were captured in a warm, sure grasp. He gasped, glancing over his shoulder to find Severus' dark eyes gazing down at him, filled with moonlight and desire. Remus couldn't help but stare into those eyes, wondering if perhaps he were going slightly mad and had conjured up a vision of Severus from the sheer force of his own longing. But no phantasm could actually touch him, could squeeze his hands, or mould itself to his body in a way that made him burn. Remus smiled then, a brilliant, welcoming smile, and laced their gloved fingers together, pulling Severus' arms down tight around his body...

And that was when they ran out of ice.

With a cry of surprise Remus found himself pitched into one of the low mounds of snow that ringed the pond, the soft, powdery stuff breaking their fall. Severus' arms were still around him, and when he finally caught his breath, Remus turned to look at Severus, his eyes wide with surprise and concern. Severus' own eyes were closed, the moonlight blazing on the pale skin of his cheeks, and Remus turned in his arms to cradle Severus' jaw in the palms of his hands.

"Severus! Are you all right?" he asked, voice hoarse with concern. To his vast relief the fathomless eyes opened, glittering with something that Remus, to his shock, recognized as amusement. 

"I will be if you will just shut up, Lupin," Severus complained, then moved forward to capture Remus' lips in a hard, warm kiss.

Everything Remus had imagined, everything he had dreamed paled into insignificance in comparison to the reality of Severus' mouth claiming his with eager hunger. It was no doubt moonlight madness, but Remus didn't question it, not even to wonder what had brought Severus here to the pond as well. He gave himself over to the moment instead, winding his arms around Severus' shoulders and parting his lips to slide his tongue between Severus' with a moan of pure need.

Severus response was immediate. Remus found his breath being stolen as he was pressed back into the snow by Severus' body, Severus' mouth devouring his with unbridled passion. Heat rose between them with a force that drove back the cold around them, and Remus gave himself over to it, desperate to lose himself in Severus' embrace. 

The need for oxygen finally forced them apart with a gasp, and Severus' lips moved immediately to Remus' throat, nuzzling against the tender flesh there, teasing it with licks and nips. Remus moved restlessly, annoyed by the layers upon layers of clothing that separated him from Severus' body, and with a little growl of frustration he buried his hands in Severus' hair, lifting so that he could look into Severus' eyes. It was a risk to speak, to break this magic between them, but Remus wanted more than just another quick shag that Severus could pretend never happened.

"I want you," Remus said, his voice rough with longing. "But not here. Inside. I want you in my bed, where I can see and have all of you at my leisure. Where I can taste and touch and make you burn without danger of us freezing our bollocks off."

Severus stared down at him, and for a moment Remus wondered if Severus was going to pull away and go storming off. But apparently the glint in his eyes was of desire, not anger, for as Severus pulled away he captured Remus by the hand, standing and hauling Remus up and into his arms.

"All right," Severus said, bending his head and kissing Remus again, almost as though making sure Remus weren't having him on. Remus didn't pull away, but kissed Severus back, relief washing over him at Severus' acquiescence. When they pulled back, Remus smiled, and as one they turned, heading back toward the shed. Skates were exchanged for shoes with an uncommon disregard for the safety of the expensive blades, and then they were racing hand-in-hand back toward the castle, the sound of Remus' laughter sparkling around them brighter than the moonlight.


	15. Chapter 14

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

Inside Remus' room it was warm, but it wasn't the air temperature that made him feel as though his entire body were on fire.

He closed and locked the door, feeling suddenly shy as he turned to face Severus in the darkness. The only light in the room filtered in from the partially open draperies, which admitted a slender beam of moonlight. Against it Severus stood in silhouette, like a shadow come to life. His face was lighter than his jacket, but Remus couldn't read the expression on it to know if Severus was still interested in making love, or if the return to the house had somehow shattered the magic. Remus waited, holding his breath, then letting it out in a sigh of relief as Severus stepped toward him and pulled down the long zipper on the front of Remus' coat.

Lifting his hands, Remus unfastened Severus' jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. He caressed his hands over the fabric of Severus' shirt, feeling the way the smooth jersey was warmed with the heat of Severus' body and moulded to the taut, defined muscles of his chest. He wanted to explore, to memorize every inch of Severus' skin, to spend all night worshipping Severus' body. Just the thought of it made him shiver in delight, and he cooperated eagerly as Severus pushed his own coat off, then stripped Remus' shirt over his head in a single smooth motion.

"No fair," Remus murmured, grabbing the bottom of Severus' shirt with a playful smile. He pulled it off with a bit of difficulty, given the differences in their height, and then gave a low, sensual chuckle at the wild disarray of Severus' hair. But all amusement was driven from his mind as Severus grasped his shoulders, pulling Remus toward him and crushing their lips together in a kiss that threatened to steal Remus' soul.

Remus wrapped his arms around Severus, running his hands over the smooth skin of Severus' back and reveling in the feeling of their chests pressed together so closely that not even moonlight came between them. Severus' mouth was hungry and demanding on his, and Remus answered with his own intense passion. Their tongues slid and dueled, each seeking dominance, the sensual combat heightening Remus' desire to a fever pitch. 

Severus' hands roamed over Remus' back as well, and Remus arched into the touch like a cat, seeking even more contact. Their bodies fit together just as perfectly off the ice as they had on it, and Remus found himself urging them back toward the bed, anxious to feel more, to touch more, to experience everything possible between them. He wanted it all, and he wanted it _now_ , and from the way Severus was fully cooperating, Remus had no doubt that Severus shared his eagerness.

They both stepped out of their shoes, and then they were falling onto the mattress together in a tangle of limbs, mouths seeking and hands caressing. Severus' lips again went to Remus' throat, and a sharp cry of pleasure escaped him as Severus rocked his hips forward, the hardness of him alluring even though annoyingly separated from Remus by too many layers of clothing. Remus rocked back, and Severus growled as they kissed once more, both of them keeping up the maddening game of thrust-and-retreat, each trying to drive the other wild while still in his own control. 

The situation threatened to send them both over the edge, and Severus pulled away, breathing hard and staring down at Remus intently. Remus stared back for several long moments, then smiled and decided that his desire for Severus was greater than any other consideration. He threw back his head, baring his throat in a gesture of submission, hissing with need as Severus lapped and sucked at the sensitive skin of his neck. 

"Yes, now," he murmured, running his hands caressingly down Severus' back before stopping at Severus' hips. He pushed down on the waistbands of Severus' sweatpants and boxers, wriggling his hips helpfully as he felt Severus mirroring his action. In moments they were both bare, and Remus moaned, wrapping arms and legs around Severus and wantonly rubbing against him, reveling in the feeling of Severus' hot, damp skin against his, desperate now to feel their bodies joined. "In the drawer... Please, Severus... Now!"

Severus wasted no time, Remus' submission seeming to have snapped his own control. He fumbled briefly with the drawer of the night-stand, then with the jar he pulled out of it, but soon Remus was arching backward with a cry as Severus prepared, and then with one long, smooth, achingly slow movement, claimed him.

It was sheer perfection the way they fit together, and Severus' groan of satisfaction was sweeter to Remus' ear than any music he had ever heard. Then Severus began to move, and Remus' world tilted on its axis, pleasure spiraling higher and tighter within him with each hard, deep thrust of Severus' hips.

Remus held on tightly, chanting a litany of pleas and praises, eyes closed as he rode the crest of an ever-rising wave. Just when he thought he could go no higher Severus reached between their bodies, curling a hand around him... and suddenly Remus was soaring over the brink, sinking his teeth into Severus' shoulder to muffle the scream that rose in his throat as he shattered into a million fragments of pure white light. He retained enough of himself to feel Severus tense and shudder, to hear Severus' harsh cry echoing his own, and Remus clung to his lover, anchoring himself within the fierce storm of pleasure that threatened to send him into oblivion.

Slowly Remus came back to himself, his arms still around Severus, who had collapsed above him. Remus didn't mind the weight, and he slowly rubbed his cheek against Severus' shoulder, giving a small growl of satisfaction. 

"That was brilliant," he said softly, running his fingers down the length of Severus' spine and letting out a chuckle as Severus shivered in response. After a few more moments he felt Severus draw in a deep breath and then roll off of him and over to one side of the bed. Remus made a low noise of protest, turning his head to find Severus watching him, although in the darkness there was no way he could read his lover's expression. "Severus?"

Remus wasn't sure if it was the uncertainty in his voice, or something else, but Severus reached for him, pulling him against his shoulder. Willingly Remus turned into the offered embrace, sighing and cuddling close against the warm length of Severus' body. Apparently Severus wasn't one for talk after lovemaking, but Remus felt too pleasantly achy and bone-meltingly tired to want words anyway. A wide yawn escaped him, and then his eyes slid closed as the soothing, steady beat of Severus' heart lulled him into sleep.

Just before he slipped away, he thought he heard Severus murmur something. The word might have been "Lupin", or perhaps it had been "love"... but no doubt the later was just the beginnings of a dream.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Remus woke, it was well past dawn and he was alone in the bed.

Sighing, he sat up, reaching out to touch the indentation in the pillow beside his own, which still seemed to retain a hint of warmth. Sounds of splashing water reached him from the _en suite_ that connected his room to Severus', and Remus hesitated for only a moment before throwing back the covers and padding naked across the floor. 

Severus' clothes were gone, and Remus pushed away the little voice of fear that began to niggle at him, telling him that Severus was going to deny the previous night had ever happened - which would be bloody hard to do, given that they had woken and made love again during the night twice more. But neither time had Severus actually _said_ anything, murmuring no endearments in Remus' ear nor uttering any words of praise or criticism. His body had spoken for him, and had spoken eloquently of need and passion and desire, but Remus had sensed that there was something Severus had been holding back, some instinctive caution that caused him to keep part of himself separate even at the height of pleasure. It was, in a way, rather like Severus' skating, his inability to relinquish mental control and give himself over to pure feeling. 

Remus was hopeful. He had helped Severus to lose himself in the music, and with proper coaching, he was certain he could teach Severus to lose himself in love-making as well. If Severus would allow it, that was; last night had meant a great deal to him, but he had no idea what it had meant to Severus beyond the purely physical release it had given him.

The door to the _en suite_ was cracked, and Remus took that as being invitation enough to push it open and step inside. He smiled at the sight of Severus standing at the sink, a towel around his lean hips and a razor in his hand, lifted halfway to his mostly shaven face. Their eyes met in the mirror, holding as Remus came up behind and wrapped his arms around Severus' waist, pressing his lips against the smooth curve of Severus' shoulder.

"Good morning," he said, searching Severus' face for some sign of welcome or rejection. Severus' face was unreadable, however, and instead of replying immediately, Severus finished his shaving with a few quick strokes and rinsed his face. Remus released him, stepping back and watching pensively as Severus turned to face him.

There was silence for several long moments, then Severus seemed to gather himself. "Last night... it was enjoyable. But it was also a mistake."

Remus breath left him in a pained gasp. "A mistake?" he repeated, not believing Severus actually _was_ going to try to deny it. It hurt a great deal, but Remus held himself in check. "How can you say that?"

Severus' face was unreadable, a mask. "Because it is true. We are rivals. Competitors. We both want the same thing, Lupin, and only one of us can have it. This is a recipe for disaster. Beyond that, there is the possibility of scandal if we were ever found out. Surely you can see that last night has to be the end of it."

"It doesn't!" Remus insisted, feeling a rising surge of panic at the thought of Severus just walking away from this, from _them_. It mattered to him too much, and he refused to believe that Severus didn't feel them same way, not after what they had shared - he just had to clamp down on his own pain long enough to get Severus to open up, give him some sign of what Severus was trying to do. Severus hadn't pushed him away, at least, and to Remus that meant Severus didn't really _want_ him to go away. He was fighting himself more than he was fighting Remus. 

"Just because we are competing for the same thing doesn't mean we can't have something together off the ice," Remus continued more quietly, giving Severus a smile full of understanding. "I don't expect you to cut me any slack for being my lover, nor do I intend to cut you any. As far as being found out... are you really _that_ afraid of public opinion, Severus? I never would have thought it, after the way you have thumbed your nose at everyone all these years!"

"It's impossible," Severus said stubbornly, but for a second his mask slipped, and a look crossed his face that spoke of something far different. It had contained elements of pain, and fear, and, most of all, longing. The expression was fleeting, but Remus saw it, and the vulnerability he read in that brief moment tore at his heart. Severus wasn't uncaring... he _did_ care, but for some reason he was disturbed enough by his own feelings to try to push Remus away.

_Like he did that night in the shower,_ Remus thought with a flash of intuition. _It's as though he pushes away anything he wants, other than skating. I just wish I knew why._

"Maybe you're right, maybe it is," Remus replied, feeling more confident now that he thought he understood what was really behind Severus' rejection. "But since when did Severus Snape ever turn away from the impossible? You want me, Severus; after last night you can't deny it. Go on, try it. Stand there and tell me you don't want me. I dare you."

The words were a challenge, one that Remus issued with a deep, seductive growl. His pose shifted from defensive to blatantly sensual, one hand on his hip, the other rising so that he could trail his fingers over the purpling mark of a love-bite on Severus' neck, a physical reminder of what had happened between them. Dark eyes flashed with temper, although Remus wasn't certain if his words, the gesture, or a combination of both provoked the response.

Severus' hand flashed up, capturing Remus' wrist. "What are you playing at, Lupin?" he asked, his normally velvet-smooth voice ragged. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything _from_ you, Severus." Stepping closer, Remus pressed Severus back against the sink and looked up at him, eyes molten with desire. "I just want _you_. We are good together, both on and off the ice, although you obviously don't want to admit it. I'm not trying to trick you, to weaken you in any way. We have something here between us, something that I think could be very, very good if we let it. I'm not willing to walk away from skating, but I don't want to walk away from this, either. We can have both."

A expression of uncertainty crossed Severus' face, and Remus felt a fresh surge of hope. "Can we?" Severus asked, voice so soft that Remus wondered if he even realized he had voiced the question aloud. Then his eyes narrowed. "I don't trust easily, Lupin. Desire... that is simple. Anything else is far more difficult."

"We both work hard for what we want, and I want this - and you - very much." Severus' hand was still around his wrist, but Remus moved it forward, laying it against Severus' cheek. "It's not going to be easy, I know that. But I want to try. Please, Severus? It's a risk for both of us... one that I think is well worth taking."

For a moment Remus thought Severus was going to pull away, but slowly he relaxed, the wariness in his eyes fading. "Don't make me regret this, Lupin," he said, and with a sudden movement he pulled Remus into his arms, lowering his head and claiming Remus' lips in a fierce, hard kiss.

Remus melted into the embrace, feeling an upwelling of joy. Severus had stopped fighting him, had stopped fighting _himself_ , and it made Remus almost giddy. When the need for oxygen forced them apart with a gasp, he smiled up into Severus' eyes, happiness making him feel teasingly playful. "You won't regret it, Severus, I promise... and if you'll call me Remus, just once, I'll let you take me into the shower. Knowing you, I'll barely be able to walk, much less skate, and you'll win by default."

Severus blinked at that and Remus saw the last of his resistance crumble. "Remus," he replied, his voice a deep, throaty purr that did wicked things to Remus' libido. Then Severus was pulling him toward the shower, and, for at least the next half-hour, Remus didn't care if he could ever skate again.


	16. Chapter 15

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

"Bravo, dear boy! That was almost perfect! Now let me see you try it again, please - perhaps just a touch more height on that last combination? Drop your arm more sharply as you kick off, that should help."

Severus scowled at his coach, but then sighed and made his way back to center ice. He glanced to the bleachers behind Albus, catching a smile from Remus, who was seated next to Minerva, and felt his spine straightening subtly, his chin lifting just a fraction more as he assumed his starting position. He even allowed himself the luxury of a faint smile, and caught Remus' answering grin out of the corner of his eye.

It was one week until the World Championships, and Severus had never felt more confident in his life.

He was skating better than ever, and it filled him with fierce elation to know that he was at the top of his game just as the most important competition of his career approached. He was going to win this one, he could _feel_ it with a certainty so complete that it left no room for doubt. He had his normal retinue of jumps, he had the quadruple toe-loop down to perfection, and now he had added a new element of artistry and grace to his program. The whole package - the skating, the confidence, the _demeanor_ of a champion - was going to carry him straight to victory.

He also had Remus to thank for it.

It had taken weeks for Severus to be able to admit that, even to himself. He initially thought that things between them couldn't possibly work, but somehow, despite Severus' concerns, they had. Although Severus was slow to trust, it seemed that Remus had nearly infinite patience, wearing down Severus' skepticism and doubt with serene certainty. Severus might be a rock of stubbornness, but Remus was like a wide, flowing stream - calm, slow and steady, eroding any resistance in his path. Thus had Severus' apprehensions been worn away, and left in their place were moments that Severus had never expected to experience.

He had rarely known peace or contentment, having spent, it seemed, his whole life fighting desperately to get what he wanted. His father had not only disapproved of his skating, he had outright forbidden Severus to go anywhere near the ice. Tobias Snape had been inordinately free with his fists to emphasize that point, to both Severus and his mother. But while Eileen Snape wouldn't stand up for herself and had taken her husband's abuse, she had covertly aided Severus as much as she could. She skimped with the meager household funds to save money to buy him skates and pay what little she could toward his ice time, not just because she was his mother, but because she _believed_ in him and in his talent. Severus had learned to be secretive about not only his skating but everything else as well, and he was fiercely loyal to his mother for her support. He had worked hard in both school and at any job he could find to get the money he needed to skate, finally working out an arrangement with the rink owner, who became his first coach. The constant work and secrecy left him little opportunity to relax, as he waited for the next battle to come his way. 

People found him rude, arrogant and abrasive, but Severus had learned early on that being soft only set him up for abuse. He had once had a dream, of sorts, one that he told to no one - to win the British Nationals, to become famous, to rescue his mother from the beast she had married and thumb his nose at his father in the process. His mother had been proud of his early victories, but unfortunately neither her pride nor Severus' dreams could save her from the cancer that took her life when Severus was seventeen.

He had left Spinner's End after the funeral, never shedding a tear and never, ever looking back. Severus had taught himself not to regret what he could not change, and no one was left who truly cared about him, no one whom he could trust to do anything except use him for his or her own ends. His personality was, therefore, both armor and weapon, and even though he was young in years, Severus had learned all too well that if he ever stopped fighting, the sharks of the world would close in and tear him to shreds. It was a lesson he never forgot, and which events of his life - especially the ones involving Lucius Malfoy - had reinforced over and over again.

Yet the time since Remus had cornered him in the _en suite_ and refused to be turned away had come close to being idyllic - an interlude out of time and place that Severus had never before experienced. He felt supported, even cherished, and something within him responded to it with a hunger that surprised and rather appalled him. It was as though he had been starved for something he couldn't even name, and now he was like a starving man at a feast, allowing himself to glut on everything Remus offered him so willingly. The feeling both elated and annoyed him, but most of all it alarmed him. The way Remus reached out and gave without asking for anything in return threatened to break down Severus' hard-built defenses, offering him something terrifying but at the same time new and wonderful - something that made him want to be with Remus, to reach out and touch him whenever possible.

Severus had no liking or patience for overt sentimentality or gestures of affection, nor could he indulge in such even if he were so inclined. The presence of Albus and Minerva McGonagall - who watched Severus with a rather speculative air, he had noticed - kept both he and Remus in check, limiting their day-time interactions to nothing more than innocuous words, furtive touches, and secretive, steamy glances. Yet the promise in those smoldering looks was fulfilled every night, as they shared the most intense passion Severus had ever experienced. Though Remus was calm and placid out of bed, in it he was anything but - he was a creative, imaginative, and surprisingly aggressive lover, not seeming to mind at all that Severus was unable to relinquish control enough to allow Remus to top. Remus gave everything Severus demanded and more, so that, rather than becoming sated, Severus found his hunger for Remus increasing with each passing day.

He knew it was dangerous to feel so intensely, and something in him, an innate caution, held him back from giving Remus any more than just his body. What made it even harder was the fact he had discovered that he genuinely liked Remus; there were depths behind those amber eyes that few people were ever privileged to see, but which Severus had been invited to share completely. Yet Severus was too wise to let himself be drawn into thinking that lust, even lust that burned in him like a constant, raging fire, was anything more than a physical craving. He couldn't afford to let it _be_ more, because he also knew that the day would eventually come when it would be over. Things - especially good things - always carried a price, and they always came to an end. 

If he were going to survive that certainty, Severus couldn't allow his walls to crumble. When the time arrived for it to end, Severus had to be able to walk away intact.

The music started, and Severus went into his program again, paying particular attention to the element Albus had criticized. He still couldn't "lose himself in the music" the way Remus wanted him - and constantly encouraged him - to do, but he was far more aware of the way his body fit to and interpreted the rhythm. Rather than a scowl of concentration, a faint smile of satisfaction curved his lips, and Severus completed the final element, struck his ending pose and then glanced over at Albus, his look one of smug inquiry. Then he frowned as he noticed that Albus wasn't looking at him, but at a tall, dark-haired man who was stooping down slightly to greet Minerva, his back to Severus. Remus had risen from his seat, and the man had lain one hand on Remus' shoulder. The stranger must have finished whatever he had been saying to Remus' former coach, for he straightened and the sound of his laughter reached Severus across the ice. Then the man was turning, pulling Remus into his arms to hug him with easy familiarity, and Severus felt blood pounding in his ears with fury as he recognized the man who was daring to touch _his_ lover. 

Sirius Black.

At that moment Remus pulled back, face flushed as he laughed at whatever Black had said to Minerva. Amber eyes met Severus', and Remus' expression went immediately from amusement to appeal, his expression beseeching Severus for understanding. Black glanced up as well, his grey eyes holding nothing but contempt, before Black leaned close to Remus once more, murmuring something in his ear that made Remus stiffen and frown. 

Severus didn't have to hear what was said to know that he was being insulted, and he scowled as he skated over to the side of the rink, his anger a cold, hard knot within him. Remus' look was apologetic, but Severus turned his back, snatching up his guards and stomping off toward the locker room. 

He knew there was nothing Remus could do, that too much was at stake for Remus to take the risk of exposing their relationship. That knowledge, however, didn't keep Severus' pride from being stung, which only made him angrier. He refused to be jealous of Remus' relationship with anyone else... jealousy implied feelings, and Severus had learned the hard way that feelings would lead him to nothing but disappointment and pain.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So I got out of the penalty box, and scored the winning goal with only five seconds left in the game. You should have seen it, Moony, it was brilliant! Even Lily said I did well, and you know how swollen she thinks my head is. So now we're in the finals. Too bad you'll be off in Denmark, I wish you could see us win the Championship - it will be amazing!"

"No doubt Remus will be winning a championship of his own," Minerva replied tartly. "Don't you go trying to guilt trip him, Sirius Black!"

Stabbing at a piece of chicken with unwarranted force, Severus frowned and wished Minerva and Albus both to perdition for having invited Black back to the castle for supper. Severus had been more than half-tempted to beg off and go to his room, or even manufacture a non-existent date, but Black no doubt would have known and would have gotten some kind of unholy satisfaction out of driving Severus away. As it was, Severus was getting less satisfaction from staying and thwarting Black than he had thought he might. Perhaps it had something to do with the way Remus seemed tense and the way Black leaned close to Remus at every opportunity. Black kept glancing at Severus, his expression pondering, which Severus didn't like one bit. The man was obviously up to no good, and the fact that Severus couldn't figure out what he was up to only annoyed him more.

"I'm not trying to guilt trip him," Black replied, his expression one of faux innocence that turned Severus' stomach. "But I did want to see him before he leaves for Denmark. Dinner was delicious Albus... but if you all don't mind, I'd like to steal Remus away for a chat. I need to drive back to London tonight, or else my own coach will have my head. Moony? How about a walk? The moon is very bright tonight, shining on all the new snow."

Severus' fingers clenched so tightly on his fork that his knuckles turned white. He was aware of Remus' sudden, intense look, but he ignored him, fixing his eyes on a portrait of one of Albus' ancestors as though it were the most interesting thing in the universe. When Remus and Black had departed with all the appropriately polite words, Severus waited a ten count, then rose as well. 

"I am going upstairs to begin my packing," he said, excusing himself with a distant nod to Albus and Minerva as he left the dining room. It was a flimsy excuse, given that they had another two days before departing for Copenhagen, but Severus didn't really care. 

Without a backwards glance, he went up to his roomand proceeded to pull his suitcases from the closet. He opened them and laid them on the bed, then stood staring at them for several moments before angrily turning away. He was too annoyed to pack, too annoyed to do anything, really, and he began to pace restlessly through the room, pent-up frustration welling strongly within him. 

"God _damn_ ," he spat, annoyed with himself for letting Black get to him, for letting anything about Lupin and his bloody friends spoil his focus. He _had_ to keep himself in check - he had come to far to let anything get in the way of his victory. There had to be something to help him find his center again, and he looked around the room, searching for a distraction that would allow him to forget that Remus Lupin had ever existed.

When his eyes fell on his skate case, Severus pounced upon it with something very like desperation.

Scooping up his jacket from the chair where he had tossed it earlier, Severus hurried from the room, then down the stairs and out of the house as though demons were at his heels. It was as bright outside as Black had stated, and Severus had no problem following the path to the pond. In moments he was at the shed, and he dropped his case with a thump, then bent to unfasten his boots.

That was when Severus heard the voices coming from around the corner of the shed, and he went absolutely still. He told himself he should move, should stand up and walk away, but the sound of his own name held him in place, ears straining to catch the conversation.

"I don't trust Snape, Moony," Black said, and Severus clenched his jaw in fury at the supercilious sound of the man's voice. "He's trouble, and I don't believe for a moment he doesn't have some plan to sabotage you at the competition."

Remus let out a sigh. "Sirius, you don't know him... and I can handle myself."

"Right, Moony," Black responded with a short bark of laughter. "I can see what's going on. He wants you, the slimy bastard."

Severus drew in a swift breath, his hands clenched into fists as he straightened up from his crouch. He wanted to storm around the corner, but he held himself in check, waiting to see what Remus would say. 

"Sirius... Look, don't worry about it, all right? Severus hasn't done anything to me, nor will he. We get along."

"Oh you do, do you?" Black's voice held suspicion. "You... you've not let him touch you, have you? God, just the thought of it makes me feel sick! Tell me you haven't! You know you belong to me..."

Unable to stand it, Severus moved around the corner, intending to give Black a piece of his mind. Remus and Black stood facing each other, Remus' back to Severus, and he thought for a moment that Black met his eyes over Remus' head, although the darkness made it difficult to tell. There was plenty of light, however, for Severus to clearly see Black pull Remus into his arms, his head bending down as he captured Remus' lips in a deep, hard kiss.

Severus froze in shock was he watched Remus' hands slowly come up to rest against Black's chest, pain lancing through him at the sight. Remus and Black... he had been so blind not to have realized. He should have _known_ it was too good to be true, that Remus could be as open and innocent as he appeared. He had been such a fool to have trusted Lupin, and now he was going to pay the price - a price, he realized as his heart shattered into a million pieces, that was far, far higher than he had ever dreamed.

Whirling on his heel, Severus ran back toward the house, moving as though with enough speed he could out-run the pain of knowing that he had somehow, despite all his defenses, fallen in love with Remus Lupin... and that Lupin didn't give a bloody damn about him.


	17. Chapter 16

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

Remus Lupin had never been more shocked in his entire life.

One moment he had been trying to subtly direct Sirius' attention away from the subject of Severus and any perception that Severus might be "after" him, the next Sirius was claiming that Remus belonged to _him_. Then things had gone completely surreal as Sirius - _straight_ , girl-loving Sirius - pulled him into his arms and snogged him with a single-mindedness that caused Remus to freeze in complete horror and disbelief.

Numb, Remus was unable to react for several moments, as his brain refused to accept what was occurring. When he finally could move, he lifted his hands to Sirius' chest and gently tried to push his friend away. Unfortunately, Sirius didn't seem willing to take the subtle hint, and Remus began to push harder, becoming desperate to put an end to what was rapidly becoming a nightmare. His body recoiled in horror, every instinct within him crying out in rejection. He didn't want Sirius, and the way Sirius was forcing himself upon him was both infuriating and frightening.

Sirius was far stronger than he, and Remus began to struggle, curling his hands into fists and thumping them against Sirius' chest. The gesture finally got through to Sirius, who released him and stepped back, eyes wide with surprise - although whether he was surprised at himself or at Remus' reaction wasn't entirely clear.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Remus asked, realizing he was breathing hard, his heart beating with something that felt very much like panic. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Moony..." Sirius began, then stopped, looking rather uncertain. "Er... sorry?"

"Sorry?" Remus repeated, blinking in disbelief. "You're my friend, Sirius, but this... I don't understand it at all. You aren't gay, and you can't convince me that you are!"

Sirius was silent for several moments, then ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of agitation that Remus knew all too well. His eyes slid away, unable to meet Remus', as though he were a little boy caught in a prank he didn't want to own up to. "I'm not gay, but I do love you, Remus - you're my friend. But you... you _are_ gay, aren't you? I've suspected for a long while now, despite the way you and Lily both pretend that you had a thing way back."

It was almost like Sirius was trying to change the subject, and Remus ground his teeth together. "That's not an excuse, Sirius! You don't go around doing things like that!"

Sirius shifted from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable. "Look... it was just a joke, all right? An... er... experiment? I mean, um, how do I know it wouldn't work unless I tried? If I had kissed James like that, he would have laughed... and then probably slugged me."

No matter how much he wanted to, Remus apparently wasn't waking up from this nightmare anytime soon. Sirius obviously didn't seem to realize how wrong everything was that he was saying, how insulting it was to Remus. He wasn't going to deny his sexuality, although he had never imagined having to come out to his friend quite like this.

"God, Sirius, you could have _asked_ me," he said, trying to get past his hurt at Sirius' cavalier behavior. He didn't want to lose Sirius' friendship, despite what he had done, and that meant he had to forgive him for being an utter wanker when it came to feelings. "Yes, I'm gay, which makes what you did less of a joke than you might think. What if I'd had feelings for you, feelings beyond friendship? Did you consider that? I don't, thank God, but if I had? What you just did, what you _said_ , would have been the most hurtful thing in the world!"

Sirius blinked in confusion. "It would have? But we're friends, Moony! I wouldn't hurt you!"

It was very apparent than Sirius was not gay - he wasn't able to put the incident in the proper frame of reference, which exasperated Remus no end. "Sirius, look at it this way. If a female friend you had a thing for suddenly walked up and kissed _you_ , then told you she was really a lesbian and just wanted to see what it was like to kiss a man, she wasn't really interested in you otherwise... wouldn't you find that insulting?"

The moonlight bleached out any flush on Sirius' cheeks, but Remus could imagine it there from the way his friend expelled a breath in disbelief, then hunched his head down on his shoulders. "Er... when you put it like that... yes, I guess I can. I'm sorry, Remus, I didn't mean... Oh, hell. It was stupid."

"Yes, it was," Remus replied, but he relented slightly, sighing and shaking his head. "You're an idiot, Sirius, but you're my friend. I suppose I'll forgive you, but... look, just don't go trying to fix me up with any _men_ , the way you and James have tried with girls, all right? I couldn't take it. And don't tell James, please? I want to tell him myself, in my own time and my own way. I suppose I should have done it long ago, but I guess I was afraid you'd both think less of me. As a man."

"I could never think less of you, Remus," Sirius replied, relief obvious in his voice. He scoffed his foot at the ground, kicking up a chunk of ice and batting it about with his foot. "I've suspected for a long time, you know. About you preferring blokes, I mean. You could have any girl you wanted, and you never did, so it seemed there had to be a reason. You're right, I _am_ an idiot, and I shouldn't have done what I did."

"No, you shouldn't have. But it's over, and I don't want to dwell. Come on, let's take a walk."

They moved away from the shed, heading out along the edge of the pond in a companionable silence. Remus couldn't help looking out across the smooth ice, remembering the first time he had skated there. Severus had come to him, and that night had started something that Remus had high hopes would turn into a permanent relationship. Severus was still skittish, he was still holding back, but Remus could sense a softening in him. Slowly, very slowly, Severus was coming to trust him. 

Remus was a bit apprehensive about the World Championships, not because of the skating, but because of Severus. He fully intended to do his best to win, but he knew he could handle it well if Severus beat him. He wasn't so certain, however, how Severus would take another defeat. It could very well put a strain on their relationship that it might not survive, despite Remus' best efforts.

A chill wind sprang up and Remus shivered as they completed the circuit of the pond. He stopped, sighing as he gazed back toward the castle and wondered what Severus was doing.

"You're quiet," Sirius said. "Remus... please, you aren't going to hold that kiss against me forever, are you?"

"No, of course not," he replied immediately, smiling slightly as he turned to look at Sirius. "But please, I would ask in return that you lay off of Severus, all right? I accept that you don't like him, but he's not your problem."

"Just so long as he isn't a problem to _you_." There was an edge to Sirius' voice. "You're right, I don't like him or trust him. You're too easy sometimes for your own good, Moony. Please just remember that I have your best interests at heart. Even with that kiss. And it was perfect timing with Snape standing there, right behind you, and I thought I'd put him off you, warn him away..." Sirius stopped suddenly, eyes going wide as he seemed to realize what he had said.

"Severus?" Remus went utterly cold, eyes widening as his stomach lurched. "Sirius... Severus was _there_? He saw? You did that just to put Severus off me? Dear God..."

"Moony! Look..."

"Don't you 'Moony' me!" Remus snapped, giving Sirius a look of loathing, feeling sick and betrayed. "You... I can't believe this! I love him, damn you! We've got something, a connection, and you had no right to interfere with it. God, Sirius, didn't you think about how _I_ might feel? Or were you so caught up in this stupid dislike of Severus that you just didn't _care_ about me?"

"Moony!" Sirius took a step toward him, but Remus backed away, holding up his hands defensively. If Sirius were to touch him right now, Remus just might hit him, despite his loathing for violence.

"Go away, Sirius, before I forget myself and punch you. I have to find Severus and try to undo the damage you've caused. I may never forgive you for this, if he won't listen to me." 

"Moony! You're too good for the likes of..." 

It was too much for Remus. His vision went red and he spun as though he were on skates, hand curled into a fist that impacted with Sirius' jaw. He felt the jar of the punch all the way up to his shoulder and sensed more than saw Sirius stagger back, then fall on his arse in the snow. 

Remus heard Sirius saying his name, but he wasn't listening. He turned and ran back toward the castle, praying that Severus would talk to him, let him explain that Sirius was an idiot, that the kiss was some stupid, juvenile prank on Sirius' part and Remus had known nothing of it. No doubt Severus was going to be angry and hurt, but Remus would do anything in his power to make it up to him, to make him believe that Remus loved him and had no interest in anyone else.

Bursting through the front door, Remus flew up the marble staircase, calling out breathlessly for Severus. Once he reached the door to Severus' room, he didn't even pause to knock, but turned the handle and burst in.

The room was in disarray, with cases and clothing scattered about. Remus hurried through it, looking into the _en suite_ , then frantically searching his own room. Pain and panic warred within him, and he ran back into Severus' room only to find Albus there, standing in the doorway and looking at him with a sad expression.

"He's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Remus asked, the blood pounding in his ears so loudly he could barely hear Albus speak. "Gone where?"

"I don't know," Albus replied, for once looking and sounding every year of his age. "He ran in, cursing at the top of his lungs, in as towering a rage as I have ever seen. I came out of the study and tried to ask him what was wrong, to get him to calm down, but he was having none of it. He said he didn't need any of us, that he was tired of being held back. Then he grabbed the keys off the foyer table where Filch always leaves them. I'm not as young as I used to be, and he ran off before I could stop him. I heard the Bentley start up, and made it to the door just in time to see the tail lights disappearing down the drive." He paused, drawing in a tired breath. "What happened, Remus? I thought everything was going so well with you two..."

"It was." Remus felt numb with loss, shock and pain making him tremble. "He saw something... it was a mistake, not what he must have thought. I came back to try to explain, but... he's gone. I can't believe he's gone. Albus... what am I going to do? He can't just leave like this... I love him!"

Remus suddenly realized what he had said, and he flinched, gazing at Albus almost fearfully, wondering if he would see disgust and rejection in the old man's eyes. But to his great surprise, Albus seemed to relax, drawing in a deep breath and nodding thoughtfully. A smile curved his mouth, as though Remus' words had suddenly fixed everything. 

"What are you going to do? Why, the only thing you can do, my dear boy... You're going to go after him. And when you find him, you're going to tell him exactly how you feel. Whether he wants to hear it or not."


	18. Chapter 17

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

"You look like something the cat dragged in, young man, not a champion skater. I can tell you've not slept a wink. Have you eaten anything, or are you actually trying to drive yourself into total collapse?"

Minerva's rather sharp words were softened by the concern on her face, and Remus gave her a tired smile as he rose from one of the hard seats in the Heathrow departure lounge, greeting her with a hug and a sudden tightness in his throat that he refused to allow to become tears. Remus felt her arms around him, and then the pressure of Albus' warm hand on his shoulder, offering support and comfort he could only accept with a gratitude that made his knees go weak. God knew he could use all that he could get after the last thirty-six hours of anxiety and pain.

Albus' car had been found at the train station nearest the castle, although none of the agents recalled a tall, dark-haired man having purchased a ticket. Nevertheless, Remus was certain that Severus must have returned to London, no doubt to hole up and stew until their scheduled departure for Copenhagen and the World Figure Skating Championships. On that slender evidence Remus had bought a ticket, leaving on the next train with the hope that he could find Severus that very night and set him straight about both what had really happened with Sirius and Remus' feelings for him.

But when Remus arrived, he didn't find Severus at his flat and his key still resided undisturbed with his landlord. He hadn't checked in at his preferred practice rink, nor had anyone Remus talked to there seen him in the time since he had left Scotland. Discreet inquiries and increasingly desperate pleas to local shopkeepers and neighbors yielded no information as to Severus' whereabouts, nor any hint as to possible places that he might have even considered going.

Within twenty-four hours Remus had also managed to call most of the several hundred hotels in Copenhagen. He tried every one listed in the phonebook he procured from the library, ranging from lavishly posh inns to respectable middle-class establishments, and down to hostels that catered to traveling students with more enthusiasm for travel than money to pay for it. His heart plummeted lower with each polite denial that a Severus Snape had registered, nor did he even have a reservation. 

By the time Remus had been reluctantly forced to give up the search so he could make it to the airport for his own flight to Denmark, he had started to believe that Severus had somehow managed to disappear from the face of the Earth.

Albus' contacts with the skating community hadn't yielded much information either, beyond disclosing that Severus hadn't withdrawn from the upcoming competition. All Remus knew was that Severus had taken himself and his skates and left Remus with a broken heart and a host of regrets.

"I've had something... I don't remember what... or when," Remus replied, knowing better than to lie to her. She pulled back, her mouth stern but her eyes not unkind.

"Then you'll get something now, young man, before we board that plane. Thank goodness the doctor cleared me to travel with you two! heaven only knows what nonsense Albus would have let you get into without me."

In short order Remus found himself seated in the food court of the terminal, with a plate of bangers and mash in front of him and a glass of apple juice in his hand. He obediently downed the juice then sat back with a sigh, waiting for the sweet liquid to assimilate into his system. As it did his head began to clear, and he realized he had probably been on the verge of a crash for quite a while. He sighed and gave an anxious-looking Minerva a lopsided smile. "Sorry. I should be taking care of _you_ , not making more work for you," he said, before turning his gaze to Albus. "And thank you, too, Albus. I don't know what I'd do without both of you."

"This is why you keep us old folks around," Minerva replied tartly, giving Albus a look that was rather more affectionate than Remus had seen from her before. "We do know a little bit about things other than skating." 

Despite his own pain, he felt glad that things seemed to be going right for _someone_ , and his slight smile was answered by the brief pressure of Minerva's hand on his own.

"She's a wise woman," Albus replied comfortably, taking a sip of the tea he had acquired for himself, his smile soft. 

Remus nodded as he took a bite of his food, gazing around at the other diners as he chewed, unable to keep himself from searching for Severus in the crowd. He drew in a heavy breath, letting it out in a deep sigh before giving Albus and Minerva a glance of apology. "Sorry. I know that he's not going to be here, but... well, I can't help hoping, you know?"

"Of course. You'll find him, I have no doubt." Albus' voice was kind and encouraging, but Minerva looked slightly more skeptical, although she covered it with a brief smile. "I know him... he won't miss that competition, not for anything in the world. You'll just have to corner him there, when he can't escape, and force him to listen to reason."

Remus' nodded, feeling his hopes renewed as he mulled over Albus' words. Severus had to skate, and that meant he would show up at the rink. When he did, Remus would be there - and he would make damned certain that, no matter what, Severus couldn't run away again.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"That could have gone better."

Remus' voice was hollow as he stepped off the ice and accepted his guards from Albus with a sigh. 

The old man patted him on the back, his eyes untroubled. "Compulsories are only a small portion of your score, dear boy, so don't fret. More than one skater has had a mediocre score in their school figures and gone on to win the title. You just have to put it behind you and think about your program tonight, rather than dwelling on what's done."

Nodding, Remus decided that Albus was right, but it was rather more difficult to actually act on that advice. Not when he had skated worse on the basics than he had ever done in his life, thanks to his inability to focus himself, to find a corner of his mind and feelings that weren't preoccupied with finally seeing Severus.

It had been nothing but a relief the day before when Remus had seen the listing for the first part of the competition and spotted Severus' name two slots below his own. He had even arrived early for his appointed set, hanging about in the locker room in the vain hope that Severus might be there. He hadn't been, of course, but that didn't stop Remus from delaying until Albus had come in to fetch him. By that time, Remus was almost vibrating in tense anticipation, and it had affected his skating as nothing had ever done before; nothing, that was, except the way Severus used to watch him.

"I hope you're right, Albus," Remus replied, sighing in resignation as he bent to sheath his blades. "Despite everything, I want to do well. I owe it to Minerva, and to you, for the way you both have taken care of me. And of Severus."

Albus touched Remus' shoulder, and Remus glanced up. "Any time, dear boy. Don't worry... things will work out, you'll see. In fact... it appears that your chance will be coming quite soon." He inclined his head to one side and Remus followed the gesture with his eyes, almost gasping as he caught sight of Severus entering the rink from a door on the opposite side.

"Let him skate first," Albus advised, his hand becoming firmer as he checked Remus' instant inclination to go running to intercept. "He's skating next, and even though I know he has feelings for you, he won't listen to a word beforehand. Put on your shoes... if you catch him when he steps off the ice, he won't be able to hobble away." There was amusement in Albus' tone, and he lifted his hand, patting Remus gently before releasing him altogether. "Even if he tries, he won't get far in skates."

"Thanks, Albus." Remus gave a brief smile before hastening to do as Albus advised, exchanging skates for shoes and practically shoving his case into Albus' arms. Then Remus turned his attention to the ice as Severus stepped out to take his turn before the judges.

Remus drank in the sight of his lover, his eyes hungrily devouring the familiar lines of Severus' body. He was starved for this, just to _see_ Severus again, and as he watched Severus skate his own anxieties lessened. Severus looked focused and determined, and even if he didn't glance over to Remus, at least he wasn't giving Remus a look of loathing. It was a slender hope, perhaps, but Remus clung to it like a lifeline. Perhaps Severus had gotten over the worst of his anger and would be willing to listen instead of storming off in fury.

Severus skated with cool detachment, his figures as meticulous as ever. He barely glanced at the judges as he finished, accepting their comments with a brief nod before skating off toward where he had left his things. Remus moved quickly to intercept, snatching up Severus' guards and extending them with a smile as he stepped from the ice.

"Wonderful, as always," he said softly, looking up at Severus with eyes full of appeal. He swallowed as Severus stared back, face an impassive mask, black eyes empty and completely emotionless. "I've missed you."

The pleading words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Severus took the guards Remus held, carefully not allowing their skin come into contact. Without so much as a nod Severus turned away as though Remus didn't exist.

"Severus!" The word was full of agony, and Remus thought he saw Severus tense before he sat down on the bench and began to unlace his skates. Moving quickly, Remus knelt in front of him, laying a hand on top of one of Severus' and speaking urgently. "You can't ignore me, I'm not going to go away. We have to talk! Please... listen to me!"

There was a long, tense silence, and Severus' hand might as well have been carved from marble, so cold and rigid did it feel under Remus' own. Finally, however, Severus looked up, his face still devoid of any expression. "I have nothing to say to you, Lupin. Nor do I care to hear any words that you might say. Go away. Now."

"I won't," Remus replied, squeezing Severus' hand, desperation rising up within him, making his heart pound. He had expected anger, disdain, scorn, and had hoped for acceptance. Never had he imagined Severus would treat him with such coldness, such complete lack of _any_ emotion - Severus seemed almost like a statue with no life at all. Remus' voice dropped, wishing that he could pull Severus into his arms. "I owe you an explanation and an apology. Please... I'm so sorry about what happened! I wasn't kissing Sirius, I swear it - he was kissing me, and I couldn't have been more shocked! I didn't know you were there, only later when Sirius admitted to me that he took advantage of the situation to try to hurt you..."

Eyes as empty as space regarded him, although Remus thought, for the briefest moment, that the hand beneath his own trembled in reaction. "Really, Lupin. Do you think I have any care about what you and Black do, or why? For him to be able to hurt me, as you claim, that would imply that I would have to _feel_ something for you. I can assure you that isn't the case. I feel nothing for you at all. You served a purpose, improving my skating and providing a physical outlet for my sexual appetites. Don't make the mistake of thinking it was anything more than that, because it's over now. I don't wish to ever see you again."

There was something wrong about the words, as though they had been well thought-out, perhaps even rehearsed, but that didn't lessen their impact or the pain Remus felt as they lanced through him with the force of a broadsword. He gasped, rocking back on his heels as he felt his throat threatening to close up, the agony in his chest leaving him unable to breathe. 

"You can't mean that," he finally choked out. "Severus... everything we shared..."

"Oh, but I do mean it, every word," Severus replied, no emotion in his voice whatsoever. "We shared nothing, Lupin. I took what you offered, and you asked for nothing in return, so I don't know why you expect something from me now. You received the same physical satisfaction, I did, didn't you? I owe you nothing, Lupin, so don't ask me for anything now, because you won't get it - I simply don't have anything to give."

"That's not true!" Remus was perilously close to panic, not knowing how to react to this frozen, distant stranger who suddenly inhabited Severus' body. He had been prepared to deal with anger, but this... this was so cold that it seemed to leech all his energy. His hand tightened on Severus', squeezing until his fingers cramped, trying to provoke some reaction, but Severus merely continued to try to untie his skates despite Remus' interference. "Severus... you can't do this to us! I love you so much! I want to be with you, to stay with you, and take care of you. I want you, Severus... forever."

Frantic amber eyes scanned Severus' face, looking for any reaction, seeking any sign that Severus would relent, forgive him and tell him that he hadn't meant the horrible, cutting words. But there was nothing, as though Severus had become a wall against which Remus was battling, scrabbling with bare hands against stone that refused to yield.

"It doesn't matter what you want. I simply do not care what you feel, about me or about anything else. Now release me, Lupin, and do not speak to me ever again, or else I will have you banned from skating for harassment."

"No!" Remus didn't think he could stand the terrible agony that tore through him at Severus' rejection. He thought he might faint from it, as though it was a mortal wound sapping away his life. He felt disconnected from his body, the world graying out at the edges.

Severus used Remus' shock to pull his hand from Remus' grasp, tearing off his skates and jamming his feet into boots as Remus continued to stare in stunned disbelief. If Severus truly felt nothing at all for him, what could he do? He had thought Severus felt something for him, perhaps had even come to love him, but this left him gasping, unable to speak as he watched in numb horror as Severus ignored him and prepared to depart. 

Remus finally found his voice, however, making one more plea as Severus rose and turned away. It was an entreaty from the depths of Remus' soul, although he could only whisper the words. "I love you, Severus... I always will, whether you want it or not. Please, don't leave me... if you feel anything for me at all, stay, and give us a chance. I'm begging you, Severus. Don't go."

For an instant Severus stiffened, and Remus held his breath, willing Severus to turn around, to return and tell Remus he hadn't meant what he said, that he loved Remus as well. But the moment passed, and Severus continued on his way, not looking back once as Remus' heart broke and his vision misted over with tears that he couldn't allow to fall.

He wasn't sure how long he knelt there, unaware of the looks of the people around him. A hand on his shoulder barely registered, until Albus' voice sounded close to his ear, speaking words Remus couldn't comprehend. He was barely aware as he was bundled into his coat and lead quietly from the rink, misery enveloping him in a world of heartache that left no room for mundane concerns. Like an automaton he cooperated as he was returned to the hotel, stripped of shoes and socks and told to lie down. Then the softness of the mattress was against his back, and a dark silence descended upon the room, bringing with it an emptiness that was somehow worse than the pain.

Remus wasn't aware of sleeping, but he did remember waking sometime in the night, hearing voices soft with worry outside the door. He turned away from the sound, closing his eyes and huddling in upon himself, wishing that he could shut out the world. The emptiness was receding as the pain began to return, and he buried his face in his pillow to muffle the strangled sounds of misery that rose in his throat. Nothing in his life had ever hurt as badly, not his parent's deaths, not discovering his disease, nor any defeat he had ever suffered. This was a loss like none he had ever known, and he was certain that nothing else could ever hurt him more than he was hurting in this moment.

Unfortunately, it turned out he was wrong.


	19. Chapter 18

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

Severus skated what was, undeniably, the most brilliant short program of his career. His jumps were flawless, his artistic impression was impeccable, every movement from his first to his last was the absolute embodiment of excellence. The fans were stunned, the judges were generous - if still somewhat grudgingly so in the case of the East German and the Russian judges - and Severus knew that a clean long program, even without the quad, guaranteed him a medal. It was precisely what he wanted, all that he had dreamed of during the long, empty year of his suspension. He had been vindicated, and the world stood poised to fall at his feet in adoration.

He had also never felt more empty and miserable in his life.

It had been one of the hardest things he had ever done - if not _the_ hardest - to say what he had to Remus the day before. The words of love, of hope, had threatened to rip through his hard-won detachment. He had spent the time since leaving Albus' home shoring up his mental defenses, preparing himself for the encounter with Remus that was certain to occur. Remus wasn't one to give up without a fight, and so Severus had to shut off every emotion, becoming nothing more than an empty shell. That was the only way he couldn't be hurt, would not be swayed by any of Remus' pleading. He had expected Remus to beg, to challenge, to perhaps even become angry as he very rarely did in an effort to break Severus down and lure him back. It wouldn't even have surprised him if Remus had tried tears... but the one thing he hadn't been prepared for was Remus' profession of love.

The look in Remus' eyes as he had spoken of his feelings had almost been Severus' undoing, threatening to tear away every wall Severus had erected. He had acknowledged to himself that he was in love with Remus, but he had brutally subdued the feeling, placing it behind a barrier of indifference and attempting to pretend it didn't exist. Love was a weakness, an emotion he had never dealt with before, one that made him vulnerable and was a threat to his very survival. He had been sure - absolutely, completely, and undeniably - that Remus, for all their attraction to each other, couldn't love him in return. After all, who _could_ love Severus Snape? He was honest enough to admit that people were attracted to him for his physical attributes, but there was no possibility at all that anyone could ever truly love the angry, vindictive, driven man he was inside - especially not a kind, soft, unselfish dreamer like Remus Lupin.

Seated in the athlete's section, Severus watched the other skaters performing their short programs, one by one falling short of his own mark. Normally he didn't care to observe those competing against him, preferring to wait out the end of the judging either in the locker room, or in the quiet prep room. But even though he told himself he wasn't there to catch a glimpse of Lupin, to torment himself with his own cruel words replaying over and over in his mind, he knew the undeniable truth. 

The things he had said burned him like acid, and the worst part was that he hadn't meant a single one of them. Even has he had been speaking, deep in his heart he had desired nothing more than to pull Remus into his arms, to kiss away the look of desperation on Remus' face. He had done too good a job, however, with his own mental state, and the ice with which he had armored his feelings had remained in place. The words had been thought out, rehearsed even, rising automatically to his lips. There had been no way to stop them, and now the damage had been done.

He told himself that he should leave, that watching Remus skate was an unnecessary act of contrition for a circumstance that he could not allow himself to regret. He had done what needed to be done to survive, to keep himself focused on what really mattered - his skating. Yet as Remus stepped out onto the ice, looking pale and perfect and so horribly, completely _empty_ , Severus felt a surge of overwhelming pain in response. He did love Remus, and Severus realized with a sick lurch to his stomach that no matter if he won the championship or not, it meant absolutely nothing if he didn't have Remus to share it with.

The music started, and Severus held his breath as Remus began to skate. His hands clenched into fists, nails biting into his palms with a pain he barely felt. Dark eyes followed every move, every jump and turn, seeing the perfection of them even as he was aware that something was horribly wrong about them. Someone who didn't know Remus well, who hadn't watched and learned from him, might not notice the difference, but to Severus it was as glaring as it was heartbreaking. Remus skating mechanically, like an automaton, with no heart, no _Remus_ present in his movements at all. Remus wasn't lost in the music as he had always been before... in fact, Severus doubted that Remus was hearing it at all.

Watching Remus skating as though he had lost his soul was torture, and Severus hated himself all the more for it. He had been so caught up in protecting himself that he hadn't thought about the effect his words would have on Remus other than to assume that since Remus didn't love him, he couldn't even _be_ hurt by them. Now the depth of Remus' feelings was shockingly evident, and Severus wanted to run to him, to pull him off the ice and into his arms and heal the unforgivable damage he had done.

Remus finished his program, the soft Sonata fading away, and the audience broke into applause. Severus didn't add to it - he was too busy moving as quickly as possible toward the kiss-and-cry, where Albus or Minerva, or perhaps even both, would be waiting for Remus and where Remus would wait for his scores. Fortunately it wasn't very far, and people moved out of Severus' way with alacrity when they saw the grimly determined expression on his face.

Silence descended, as it always did in the breathless moments before the scores were announced, and Severus waited, knowing that Remus' marks would not be good and that it was _his_ fault. He had destroyed something special, something beautiful, something that meant more to Severus, he realized belatedly, than his own life. If he could just see Remus, speak to him, perhaps it wasn't too late to mend the damage, to heal Remus' gentle heart so that he could become the champion he was meant to be.

The pause seemed to go on forever, but Severus wasn't certain if it merely felt that way to him because of his desperation to reach Remus. Just as he arrived at the side of the kiss-and-cry, as he caught sight of Remus' lowered head where he was seated with both Albus' and Minerva's arms around him, the voice of the announcer began to drone through the speakers. "The marks for technical merit... Five point eight, five point nine, five point eight..."

Severus stopped abruptly, eyes widening at the scores. They weren't as high as his own, but they were very high, surprisingly so given the program Remus had skated. Then came the marks for artistic impression, and Severus gaped, unable to believe his ears.

"Five point nine, five point nine, six point zero..."

Shocked, he stared at Remus, wondering if he would raise his head and smile in relief. The judges could be unpredictable, and Remus had to have known how his program lacked the spark, the difference that had always set his skating apart from everyone else. Severus had assumed that was why Remus had basically collapsed in Minerva's arms. Perhaps the judges were being generous, based on Remus' past performances, and they didn't want him to rank too low to medal. It had certainly happened before.

If anything, however, the high scores seemed to break Remus. He stood, and Severus caught a glimpse of his pale, ravaged face before Albus turned him and they began to walk away in the opposite direction, Albus seeming to hold Remus upright as they moved. There were questions being thrown at Remus but Severus paid no attention - he had to get to Remus, to tell him that he loved him and that he wanted to make everything right between them.

Stepping through the area Remus had just vacated, Severus pushed into the gathering crowd, hearing gasps of surprise as he shouldered his way roughly past anyone who got in his way. As who Severus was began to register, murmurs of speculation rose up from the people around him. Albus' white head was still visible, and the form of Minerva was behind him as they whisked Remus away. Angry and desperate that he couldn't reach his goal, Severus called out.

"Remus! Remus, wait! We need to talk!"

The people around Severus stopped, looking at him with curiosity. Severus ignored them, focusing on Remus, hoping only that _he_ had heard. Remus never turned around, but Minerva did, her surprise quickly turning into a glare so ferocious, so infuriated that Severus wondered if her weakened heart would burst on the spot.

The old woman strode up to Severus, anger seeming to make her larger. Her blue eyes, which had gazed at Severus with warmth only a few days before, were now colder than arctic ice, as she planted herself in Severus' path and refused to let him take another step toward Remus.

"How dare you... how _dare_ you speak to him, after what you did to him? After he _trusted_ you? Don't come anywhere near him, Snape... or I just might forget that I am a lady and old enough to be your grandmother!"

"I _will_ speak to him - he has to listen to me!" Severus glanced around at the crowd that was listening to them so eagerly, and he dropped his voice to speak a word he rarely used. "Please, Minerva. I can fix this."

"You should have thought about that before you did it! I'm no fool, Snape. I won't let you hurt him again!"

Minerva's tone was pure venom, and Severus stiffened in defense, regarding her with grudging admiration for her loyalty to Remus. "I know what I did was wrong, and I want to apologize. I never should have left, I should have stayed and talked it out. He told me it was all Black's doing... I can fix this, I can make it right. But only if I can speak to him."

A bitter laugh escaped Minerva's lips. "Fix it? How can you possibly imagine you can _fix_ what you did? It's out now, and he's going to have to live with it for the rest of his life." She paused, waving a hand at the people gathered around them. "Can you make them forget? Make the judges forget? There is no fixing this, Snape, and you knew it the moment you opened your mouth!"

There was something wrong about what Minerva was saying. The judges had nothing to do with him and Lupin, and neither did the crowd who stood about gawking at them. "Forget what?" he asked, casting a baleful look at someone who had "reporter" written all over them. "I don't know what you are getting at, and I don't care. I just need to speak to him for a few minutes..."

"Don't know what I'm getting at?" Minerva's voice rose as she lifted a hand, waggling a finger under Severus' nose. "Don't tell me you didn't _mean_ to disclose his condition to the press - not after what you did with the NISA! He told you why he didn't want it released, and you did it any way, just to hurt him. I had thought Albus was right, that you could be trusted... but now I'm beginning to wonder if you were really an innocent victim of Lucius Malfoy or an apt pupil!"

Stunned at this attack, Severus fought down his own automatic reaction to snap back with equal fury, although he couldn't help a certain bitter rejoinder. "I am _nothing_ like that bloody pig! I'm hardly perfect, but I would _never_...!" He paused, blinking in shock as the implication of her words finally cut through his own frustration. "Wait... you mean someone leaked about..."

Severus felt sick inside, finally understanding what was behind Minerva's anger. Someone had apparently let the story out about Remus' diabetes, and they thought _he_ had done it. 

_That explains the scores,_ he thought, feeling his stomach lurch. Just as Remus feared, they probably feel sorry for him. They weren't judging him on his skating, and now he will never be certain again whether his marks were deserved or not.

"Don't you dare play innocent with me!" Minerva replied. "Albus might buy it, but I don't. Not anymore. Stay away from him. You may have been _friends_ " - her voice put an emphasis on the word that Severus caught, but hopefully the people standing around wouldn't - "but he's learned his lesson. I won't let you gloat at him about it, not again." 

Severus didn't know what to say to that; apparently Remus had told Minerva, and presumably Albus, about their conversation, about the fact that Severus claimed to have used Remus for his own purposes with no care at all for Remus' feelings. In light of everything that had happened, it looked as though Severus really _had_ done precisely that, and the realization made Severus want to heave.

He wracked his brain, trying to find something that would convince her that he hadn't been the one to betray Remus' secret. Finally he thought of the marks, and almost groaned in relief. "If I were willing to violate his trust in order to defeat him, why would I do something that would send his scores _up_?"

Minerva waved his argument away with a snort of derision. "It could have gone either way with the judges, as you well know. Not that they matter, when it comes right down to it - not for this competition. Hurting Remus would throw his skating off, and that would be all that it would take. Or perhaps you thought he might even drop out if his secret were revealed? No, I don't believe you. You've taken big risks before... I'd have thought by now you would have learned from your mistakes, but some people _never_ do."

"I didn't do it. I swear to you, Minerva, it wasn't me." 

His words were weak to his own ears, and Minerva apparently took that as an admission of guilt rather than the sense of loss it really was. She sneered at him, then shook her head in disgust. "You told him to stay away from you... so I'll just give you those words right back. Stay away from him, Snape. Remus may be a gentle person who wouldn't hurt a soul, but I assure you that _I_ am not."

With that, she spun on her heel and walked away from him without looking back.


	20. Chapter 19

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

Severus might have missed the newspaper articles on the morning of the short program that revealed Remus' diabetes, but there was no escaping the reports the next day which, in the wake of Minerva's allegations, fingered him as alleged source of the info. That they speculated accurately about Severus also having been the source of the drug allegations against Remus earlier in the season only drove home to him the fact that there was no way that anyone - and most especially Remus - was ever going to believe that he was innocent. His public reputation was once again in tatters, and he wasn't certain that he might not face more official sanctions, but oddly enough, this time Severus was less worried about his skating career than he was about Remus.

He had managed - barely - to avoid punching any of the reporters who had sought him out like a hungry pack of wolves, mainly by changing his hotel and then glaring threateningly at any of them who dared to try to follow when he left it. He wished that he could think of a way to make the damned vultures _useful_ in getting Remus back, but after the whole incident with Lucius he loathed them so utterly that he was unable to be rational about it, and so he settled for armed neutrality, barbed tongue ready to strike back against poison pen should any of them cross the line.

His inability to _do_ anything was driving Severus almost mad with frustration. He even thought that it might have helped to actually take a swing at one of the smug bastards who were hounding him, just to let off some of the knot of coiled aggression that was building inside of him. What he _really_ wanted to do was find the bastard who had leaked the news of Remus' condition and stomp on him with his skates - sans guards - to strike back for some of the pain that had been inflicted on Remus. Whoever it was had also managed to make Severus' own horrendous lapse of faith that much more difficult to rectify, and although hurting the miserable cur wouldn't remedy _that_ part of the problem, it might make Severus feel just a tiny bit more like he had control over _something_ in this situation.

He had even called Remus' hotel, on the off chance that Remus would be there alone and the one to pick up the phone. It might even have been easier to say the words without having to face the accusation and pain in Remus' eyes, although he would have settled for merely being able to arrange a meeting. Minerva, however, had answered, and he had hung up, knowing she would recognize his voice in an instant. They were obviously set on protecting Remus from him, and it was going to take them being alone for Severus to be able to explain himself.

By the night of the long program, two days after the fiasco with Minerva, Severus was desperate to get to Remus. It might have no effect, it might not heal the breach between them - a breach he freely admitted was of his own manufacture, aided by a horrible bit of bad luck - but Severus knew himself well enough to realize he would never believe it unless he heard it from Remus' own lips. Minerva was no fool, he admitted grudgingly, but neither was he going to accept her interference. The words would likely come out wrong, given his loathing of making himself vulnerable to anyone, but he had to make the attempt.

As the leader - even Remus' excellent scores hadn't bumped Severus from his position - Severus was skating in the final group. He was informed upon his arrival that he would be skating fifth, with only Scott Hamilton, the annoyingly bubbly American - and reigning World Champion - following after. Remus was up first, and Severus ground his teeth in frustration, for that meant he couldn't try to corner Remus in the waiting room before his program. Hopefully Remus would stay around afterward so that Severus would have an opportunity to corner him, Minerva be damned. He'd risk her maternal cat-claws willingly if that was the price of getting what he wanted.

The competition was well underway by the time Severus arrived, but for once he had no interest in how the scores were going. He went to the waiting room, hoping that by some miracle Remus would be there, but unsurprised that he wasn't. Severus himself lingered, however, knowing it would be futile to hunt Remus down in the crowds. He also refused to be run out of the room by the mutterings of his fellow skaters. Most of them proceeded ignore him when it was obvious he was going to remain, but Brian Orser - a Canadian who was also known for his exceptional artistry - threw him a look of such intense hatred that it made Severus glare back in response. He wondered, with a flash of sudden jealousy, if perhaps the man had a rather more personal reason for his anger, one that had honey-colored hair and golden eyes.

Fortunately it wasn't long before they were called to the ice for their warm-up, and Severus was finally rewarded with the sight of Remus, one that both took his breath away and made his heart ache within him. 

Remus had eschewed his normal flashy, sequined costume, opting for flowing trousers and a sleeveless satin vest in deep crimson. It was a stark combination, one that Severus himself might have chosen, and Severus wondered if the change was brought about by a need Remus felt to divorce himself from his short program. It also had the effect of making Remus' pallor incredibly obvious, bleaching any hint of pink from his skin and leaving him looking wraith-like and otherworldly. He didn't glance in Severus' direction, ignoring him even when they skated near each other. Severus tried several times to catch Remus' eye, but to no avail. When the warm-up finished Severus was forced to leave the ice, gnashing his teeth in frustration with the situation, with Remus, and with himself in particular for having bollocksed it up in the first place.

Severus should have returned to the waiting room with the other skaters until summoned for his turn, but he didn't, turning around instead to watch Remus as he skated to the side of the ice for a last-minute pep talk from an agitated Minerva and a worried-looking Dumbledore. Even from a half-dozen meters, Severus could see the beads of sweat dotting Remus' pale forehead and the tremor of Remus' fingers as he brushed his damp hair back from his forehead. Severus' eyes widened in alarm as he recognized the signs of Remus' blood sugar going low, and he almost shouted out a warning. Before he could draw breath, however, Minerva was pressing a sports drink into Remus' hand, and Remus held it while listening to the advice his coaches were giving.

Then with a vague nod, he handed the bottle back and skated off, Minerva and Albus frowning after him. Severus watched as Remus took center ice, and held his breath as the music started and Remus began to skate.

It was the new program, the one to "Funeral for a Friend", and Severus felt a painful squeeze to his heart as he recognized the sorrowful notes. Remus' movements were no longer mechanical, and he wondered if it was the deep sadness in the melody that was once again allowing Remus to be absorbed by the music - if it appealed to Remus on an emotional level by resonating with his pain. For pain Remus was obviously feeling, every line of his body, every movement, every turn and leap eloquently speaking of a depth of torment so real that Severus wasn't surprised that the audience was held in thrall, utterly silent as they watched the man on the ice skate the ultimate portrayal of love lost forever.

Severus was silent as well, his throat tight, almost as lost in the music as Remus. But a detached part of him waited with white-knuckled anticipation for what he knew was coming, the element around which the entire program had been designed. The jump that would prove Remus' greatness as not only an artist, but as an athlete. It would come at the moment the music changed from an unremitting dirge to the more hopeful notes of renewal: The quadruple toe-loop... which no one, not even Severus, had landed successfully in competition.

Severus' hands were knotted into fists, just like his stomach, as he watched, waiting for Remus to throw the jump. Remus seemed to become even paler as he skated, and with a sudden gasp, Severus looked over to where Minerva stood, holding the bottle of sports drink Remus had given back to her before the program. Her hand was wrapped around it, but over her fingers Severus could see the sickly greenish liquid, still near the top.

Remus hadn't taken so much as a sip of it... and from the looks of things, he was rapidly headed for a sugar crash.

"No..." Severus groaned, willing Remus not to jump, to stop his program and leave the ice. He wanted to shout a warning, but any distraction from him could be just as devastating to Remus as his blood sugar. All Severus could do was watch helplessly as Remus flew around the rink, building speed with each stroke of his skates as he set-up for the leap. The music rose to its crescendo, and Severus held his breath as Remus reached back with his right leg, his toe-pick slamming down into the ice and propelling him up, his rotations beginning almost before he was airborne.

_Triple... triple it!_ Severus urged silently, but he could already tell from the speed of the approach and the height that Remus was going for the quad. Severus was furious, but he knew it was what he himself would have done in the same circumstances. Remus had something to prove - not to the audience, but to himself. Remus wanted to win, but he wanted to do it on his own terms.

The launch was beautiful, but Severus could sense, with the instincts of a jumper, that for all its height the rotations weren't quite fast enough, as though Remus' flagging energy had all been used up in the attempt to leave the ice. And so it turned out to be, with Remus still in the fourth rotation as the ice seemed to snatch him from the air, capturing his feet and sending him plunging down to the hard surface. The momentum of the rotation still carried him around, causing his hip, then shoulder, and finally the side of his head to contact the ice. Remus did nothing to save himself, and Severus wasn't entirely certain from the look of it if Remus had jumped with his eyes closed, as usual, or if he were already losing consciousness as he impacted and lay horribly, finally still.

A collective gasp rose from the audience while Minerva and Albus and perhaps a half-dozen others rushed out onto the ice, sliding their way to Remus' fallen form. Severus tried to get there as well, but he was halted by the press of bodies that surged toward the boards. He fought his way forward, but by the time he was near the opening, medics had arrived with a stretcher, which Remus was placed upon before being whisked away toward the opposite side of the rink.

"God DAMN it all to hell!" Severus spat, but no one seemed to be paying him any attention. He began to push his way back from the ice, holding up his skater's pass like a weapon as he moved into the restricted areas of the rink. At least he knew where they were taking Remus, and now he had the access to get there.

It took a few minutes for Severus to reach the infirmary area, but he knew that stopping to unlace and remove his skates would take even longer than just leaving them on and moving as quickly as he could. As he arrived, he was just in time to see the stretcher being carried through the door, attended by what appeared to be a host of doctors and nurses. Minerva followed close behind it, but Severus called out to the one person who would be most likely to answer him.

"Albus!"

The old man turned just as he had been about to enter the infirmary, catching sight of Severus over the heads of the trailing attendants. To Severus' relief, Albus didn't ignore him, instead pausing to say something low to a nearby doctor before crossing to meet Severus.

"Why are you here?" Albus asked, stopping in front of Severus and lifting a brow. Unlike Minerva, Albus' words were merely a request for information, not an attack.

"How is he? He's not..." Severus couldn't bring himself to even voice the terrible thought. Albus must have read something in his expression, however, for he went from neutral to sympathetic, reaching out to place a hand on Severus' shoulder. Severus hadn't realized until that very moment how much he had missed casual touches of support. 

"No. A slight concussion, and he's conscious now but very weak. They gave him an glucose injection out on the ice before they carried him back here. He might also have a sprained ankle but they're going to get him to the hospital for X-rays to make certain." Albus paused, sighing and looking sad. "It's my fault, mine and Minerva's, for not seeing to it that he actually drank what he was given. We've all been a bit, er, distracted."

"It's my fault," Severus said soberly, bowing his head. "I shouldn't have said the things I did to him. I was wrong. But Albus... you _have_ to believe me. I didn't let out his secret! No matter what Minerva says, no matter how... confused I was about what I was doing, I wouldn't have betrayed his trust! Not like that!"

He raised his head, searching Albus' face, waiting to see condemnation in the faded blue eyes. But it never came, and to Severus' surprise, Albus nodded, a slight smile on his lips.

"I know, dear boy, I know. You might not find this amusing, but you and Minerva are not so dissimilar, in a way. Both proud and stubborn and fiercely independent, both determined to stand on your own two feet. You need to be in control, don't you? And Remus is the one person who makes you feel that someone might actually matter enough to you to be able to hurt you, to take away the bits of _you_ that no one else has ever been able to touch."

Severus' eyes widened in shock, and he would have pulled back in horror at having his deepest secrets so casually exposed, but Albus' hand tightened on his shoulder. "Listen to me, young man, and stop being so bloody defensive - that's what got you into this situation. I'm willing to help you, because I believe that you really do care about him, more than you are probably willing to admit, at least to me. I trust that you really do have his best interests at heart, don't you? And you've been trying to get to him for days now, to tell him how you feel?"

"Yes." Severus almost sagged in relief, before giving a shuddering sigh. "But, Albus... what can I say to make him believe me? Will he even believe me, after what I said before? I have to try, but it's a mess, and while I made plenty of a hash of it myself, whoever leaked that information really bollocksed things up!"

"They did," Albus agreed. At that moment someone called to him from the doorway, and he turned to acknowledge the person briefly before facing Severus once again, his eyes kind. "Your tongue has certainly gotten you into trouble, that's true. Instead of speaking, why don't you _show_ him how you feel? Actions speak louder than words, as the saying goes, and remember that I'll help back you up in any way I can. It might take something big, but you never do things by halves anyway - for good or ill. I have to go check on Remus and Minnie now. You should get back to rink-side, they'll be calling you soon."

He clapped Severus on the shoulder twice, then stepped back and turned to leave. Severus watched him walk away, mind racing as he tried to come up with a plan, something that would convince Remus that he loved him, that he hadn't betrayed him and would do anything in his power to make up for the horrible things he had said. 

At the door, Albus paused, looking back over his shoulder at Severus. "I've always trusted you, and always been proud of you, dear boy, both on and off the ice. Don't worry, you'll think of something! You're too much of a fighter to lose now!"

As the door closed behind the old man, Severus' spine straightened, a plan coming together in his mind with crystalline clarity. Albus, it seemed, had given him exactly what he needed - in more ways than one.


	21. Chapter 20

  
Author's notes: AU - Remus Lupin is an up-and-coming figure skater; Severus Snape is a disgraced former champion. As the two men compete for the World Championship, sparks and accusations fly. Can the two rivals admit that they share a common passion... each other?  


* * *

Remus woke to an awareness of two things - the surface upon which he lay was far too hard, and the world outside his tightly closed lids was much too bright. A soft sound of protest escaped him as sleep fled, and with a sigh of resignation he opened his eyes.

Above him was an ceiling of unrelieved industrial white, complete with florescent light fixtures that shone down upon him with unremitting brightness. He squinted, then turned his head to the side, wincing at the flash of pain that accompanied the motion. His vision was clear, and he gave a weak smile as he spotted Minerva seated primly in a chair next to the bed, a magazine open in her hands. She glanced up, then smiled as she noticed Remus was awake.

"Well, look at you, slacking off again... you'll do anything to get out of practice, won't you? How are you feeling?"

Her words were teasing, but her tone held a wealth of concern, and Remus opened his mouth to offer her reassurance. A dry croak emerged, and Remus swallowed against a throat that he suddenly realized was parched.

Recognizing the problem at once, Minerva reached to the bedside table, retrieving a plastic cup and filling it with water from the carafe next to it. She leaned forward, sliding an arm behind Remus' shoulders to elevate him enough so that he could sip the blessedly cool liquid. It felt wonderful going down, and when the cup was empty he leaned back with a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," he said, watching as Minerva nodded and returned the cup to the table. "Other than a beastly headache, I feel all right. How long have I been in the hospital?"

"Just overnight, and it's only mid-morning now," she assured him. "You hit your head when you fell, and even though the concussion was mild, they wanted to keep you for observation. You were rather out of it, between the hypoglycemia and simple emotional exhaustion." She paused, giving him a look full of apology. "I'm sorry, Remus. This is all my fault. I should have forced you to withdraw from the competition. Even without the hypoglycemia, you were in no shape to skate."

"No, no... you couldn't have stopped me," Remus said, reaching out a hand. Minerva took it, holding it between both of hers, and Remus was reassured by the contact. "It wasn't your fault at all."

"I should have made certain you drank the..."

Remus squeezed Minerva's fingers gently. "I'm a big boy, Minerva. I should have done what needed to be done." He stopped, giving her a lopsided smile. "So, tell me... other than a concussion, is there anything else? Nothing _feels_ broken."

"Nothing is," Minerva replied, and Remus was grateful that she let her self-recriminations go, at least for the moment. "You have a mild sprain of your right ankle, and bumps and bruises galore, but, all in all, you were very lucky. It could have been much worse." The haunted look in her eyes let him know exactly how much worse it _could_ have been, and Remus shivered, knowing that he had probably been luckier than he had any right to expect.

"Oh, I'm sure," Remus said. Strangely enough, despite the injuries Remus felt more like himself than he had since Severus left. There was still a deep ache in his heart, but his fall had seemed to knock him out of the obsessive pain that had consumed him for days. "I think that I was lucky. I've... not been myself..."

Remus' voice trailed off as the door opened and a white-uniformed nurse stepped inside, followed by a beaming Albus Dumbledore. "Dear boy! Sorry to interrupt, but I'm glad you're up... so to speak. I have a surprise for you."

Remus cocked his head to one side in curiosity, which made him wince again. The nurse made a tsking sound and crossed to the bed, lifting Remus' hand from Minerva's with brisk efficiency to take Remus' pulse. "No surprises yet, sir," she said in a soft Danish accent, shaking her head so that her soft blonde curls bounced on her shoulders. "First I must make certain Mr. Lupin is well and give him something for the pain. Your head hurts, yes? That is why the grimace."

"Yes," Remus acknowledged. She finished with his pulse, then did a swift, but thorough, examination. Apparently satisfied that he wasn't going to keel over immediately, she handed him two tablets from a bottle in her pocket and refilled his cup with water.

"Those will help with the headache, but they aren't so strong as to make you sleepy. You should try to stay awake now, and soon the doctor will come. If you need anything else, please ring." She waited for Remus to swallow the pills, then with a brief smile for all of them, took her leave.

"Looks as though you will live, thank goodness," Albus said, moving to stand by Minerva's chair. He bent down and pressed his lips against her cheek, and Remus smiled at the blush that tinted her skin.

"Go on, get the surprise," Minerva said tartly, shooing Albus toward the door. "I know neither of us will get to say another word until you've shown him."

"Shown me what?" Remus asked, but Albus merely winked and left the room once more. He was back very quickly, however, carrying a small bag and accompanied by a young orderly who wheeled in a television set on a cart. There was a video recorder on top of it, and as the orderly plugged the electronics into the wall, Albus reached into the bag and extracted a video tape. 

"Thank you, thank you," Albus said as the orderly finished and departed. He removed the tape from its case, and slid it into the slot of the player. After fiddling with the television for a moment, he nodded in satisfaction.

"Dear boy... something rather extraordinary happened last evening. Something you missed, due to your accident, but which you need to see. I was able to procure a recording of the event - one of the perks of my former position, you know - and I would like for you to watch it."

Remus frowned in confusion, his heart sinking as he tried to figure out what could possibly have occurred other than his own idiotic accident. "Something happened? It's not me on that tape, is it? I really don't think I can stand to watch it right now, to be honest."

"No, not you, but... well, let's just say I believe it will interest you," Albus replied. He gave Remus a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, dear boy, it's not unpleasant. Surprising, perhaps, but... well, you'll just have to see for yourself."

With that, Albus pressed the play button, and Remus looked at the screen, brow furrowed, wondering what in the world Albus had up his sleeve this time.

A static of snow emerged as the screen brightened, but was quickly replaced by the image of the Copenhagen ice rink. There was a voice-over in Danish, which Remus couldn't understand, but he dismissed it as the camera panned in on the ice where a solitary figure in black stood poised, face a mask of concentration as he prepared to skate. It was Severus, and Remus felt a painful lurch in his chest at the sight of his former lover. Obviously this was his performance from the night before.

"Albus, I don't see..." Remus began a protest, not wanting to watch Severus skate, to watch the grace and poise of the body that had become almost as familiar to Remus as his own. But the words died on his lips as the music began, and Remus drew in a sharp breath, not believing his own ears.

_It can't be... that's not his program music! That's... that's **our** music! He's skating his long program to the song we skated together! But... **why**? He's not rehearsed that, I know it! He couldn't have!_

Remus watched in amazement as Severus began to skate, using not his normal music, but the song to which Remus had taught him to let go, to abandon himself to the music. The sensual tones filled Remus' ears and he held his breath, leaning forward to see better. He could hardly credit his own eyes, and he wondered wildly if this were actually a dream, a product of the knock on his head and a great deal of wishful thinking.

It was almost unheard of for a skater to improvise on the ice. A competition program was the product of hours of planning, choreography, refinement, and endless hours of rehearsal. Each movement had to be perfect, every jump and spin made to show the skater to best advantage. The strength of a good skater was consistency, an ability to perform elements again and again, in precisely the same way each and every time. Artistry and athletic ability were vital components, but as in any sport, it was consistency that lifted one from the level of aspirant to that of champion. There were occasions where a skater, having missed a required element and fearing a loss, might alter a later jump in a desperate bid for victory, but there were very few who had ever pulled it off successfully. Even if it weren't a matter of altering a pattern that had been very nearly programmed into the skater's brain, there was the entire psychological factor of actually _thinking_ about an element - planning and executing a change on the fly. It wasn't impossible, but damned near to it.

And here was Severus, altering not a single jump or turn, but improvising an entire program. It was a recipe for a certain loss, and perhaps even total disaster.

Remus wanted to close his eyes and look away, but he couldn't. He didn't understand why Severus was doing this, why he was risking what was almost certain victory on such a pointless display. Yet as Remus watched, he found himself recognizing elements of Severus' normal program, and it was at that point that he got past his shock enough to see not _what_ Severus was skating, but _how_ he was skating it.

The long, elegant lines of Severus' body moved in perfect accord with the music, seeming to flow naturally from one into another. It was easy and graceful, and Remus stared, not hearing the disbelieving tones of the announcers who were frantically documenting the unheard-of event. He was focused completely on Severus, his consciousness seeming to extend beyond himself until he could almost feel himself there on the ice.

Severus skated with total absorption, his face showing not its normal lines of fierce concentration, but an expression almost of enjoyment or serenity. He began a straight-line sequence, his arms up as though enveloping an invisible partner, and Remus gasped, recognizing the sequence as being close to the one they had skated together to this very song. It was beautiful, lyrical, and Remus ached with loss as he watched it, wishing with all his heart that he could be there in Severus' arms, moving with him, their bodies portraying the seductive rhythm and not caring who watched.

The segment ended and Severus began to skate faster, building momentum as he flew over the ice, his arms seeming to embrace the air rather than attacking it. With an almost causal movement, his toe-pick hit the ice, propelling him up and over as his body spun with blinding speed, almost too fast for the eye to catch the rotations as they flashed by - one, two, three, _four_...

As easily as any bird alighting on a branch, a single foot touched the ice as Severus landed, his residual speed carrying him into a half turn. Remus' eyes misted over, but he blinked it away, not wanting to miss a single, magical moment of this performance. Remus might not understand on a conscious level what this meant, but his heart couldn't help but soar in triumph, as would that of any fan of the sport upon seeing someone successfully land the first-ever quadruple jump in a competition.

The program ended, and Remus sighed, shaking his head as the picture returned to snow. Albus turned off the set, and Remus looked at him with troubled eyes. "That was beautiful, Albus, but I'm confused. Why would he do that, after what he said to me, what he _did_? He could have won the gold..."

Albus said nothing, only smiling mysteriously as he reached into his bag again, removing a black velvet pouch and holding it in his hand. He winked at Minerva. "I think I'll let Minnie explain, but I have something here for you. Something I was told to give you, because he said, by rights, it belongs to you."

With that Albus tossed the pouch toward him, and Remus' hand raised automatically to catch it. There was something hard inside, and with a blink of confusion Remus opened the string at the neck, reaching in and pulling the object out. He stared at it uncomprehendingly as the gleaming surface flashed, seeming to gather every ray of light in the room and reflect it back so intensely it hurt the eyes. 

"The gold medal? He _won_?" 

Remus stared at the golden disk in breathless wonder, then lifted his gaze to Albus. The older man merely continued to smile, inclining his head toward Minerva, and Remus obediently looked at his coach.

"He won... a miracle, that, but he had all the required elements, and it was... well, if not entirely perfect, close enough." Minerva's voice held a trace of acid, but then she drew in a breath, looking at Remus soberly, a hint of ancient pain in the depths of her blue eyes. "Sometimes, though, it takes a miracle to heal the pain between two people, when things have gone horribly wrong, or when one of them has hurt the other beyond any hope for forgiveness."

"Are you saying..." Remus began, but Minerva held up a hand, shaking her head.

"I'm not inside that man's head, but let us say that I think I understand him better than I thought I might. Stubborn pride can make you do foolish things, but it takes fear - a fear of losing your identity, perhaps even yourself - to make you lash out. I hadn't realized, until Albus explained some things to me last night that Severus and I have more in common than I ever would have dreamed. It pains me to admit it, but... Albus thinks Severus loves you, Remus. And I do, too."

"Loves me?" Remus gave a choked laugh, wanting to believe it, but frightened to do so. Pain still clutched at his heart, and he squeezed the medal in his hand, as though by force of will he could project all his heartache into it. "Why would he have said those things if he _loves_ me? He couldn't have chosen any other words more calculated to hurt me and drive me away."

"Exactly." Minerva nodded, then reached out to lay her hand on top of Remus' once more. "He knew what would hurt you, and he used it. For someone like Severus - like _me_ \- being in love is a vulnerability. When love has only ever brought you pain in your life, you shy away from it, reject it. I... I did it myself, you know. My father hated my skating, hated what it cost my family. It drove a wedge between him and my mother, and they eventually divorced. In the 1950s that was basically unheard of. My mother was driven after that, and so was I. A championship title was the only thing that would vindicate the decision she had made, and the only thing, I was convinced, that would make up for the loss of my father - I worked hard, determined to prove us both right. Then when my mother was killed in a car accident, skating became not only my profession, but my complete obsession. I had to harden myself, focusing only on my goal and ignoring anything that stood in my way. Even love... _especially_ love."

"You... and Albus?" Remus asked, looking between the two of them with sympathy.

"Yes. I was frightened, in so many ways. That loving Albus would leave me vulnerable. That he would stand between me and my dream. That he would resent my focus, my _need_ to prove myself. I had to vindicate everything by becoming a champion, you see. To do any less would mean that everything - my whole life - had been worth nothing."

Remus ached for the pain in Minerva's voice. "But you were wrong... it wouldn't have been."

"I can see that... now," she replied, giving a small shrug. "I was damned proud, though, and Albus was persistent. I loved him as deeply as he loved me... but I pushed him away. I told him that I didn't love him. Threatened him, even - he was a skating official by then, and a several years my senior. There would have been a scandal that would have ruined his career. I couldn't take the risk, you see, of loving him. I told myself that loving him was a mistake, and just like everyone I had ever loved in the past, he would end up giving me nothing but pain. And before you say it... yes, I realize now that I was a stupid fool."

Albus' hand came to rest on Minerva's shoulder. "We both have some of the blame. I should have been more persistent," he said, shaking his head. The faded blue eyes turned to Remus, twinkling softly. "She's a damned stubborn woman, my Minnie. Took a heart attack to bring her around."

"That was _our_ miracle," she replied, turning to gaze at Albus with a look of such love that it brought a sudden tightness to Remus' throat. She turned back to Remus once more. "I must admit that I think what he did to you was horrible, Remus. Perhaps even unforgivable. But having skated a mile in his boots, I can say that the way he performed last night seemed to be a blatant declaration, meant just for you. If you can bring yourself to forgive him, to go to him, perhaps you won't end up losing as many years as Albus and I have."

Remus went very still, thinking over her words. "I want to believe. I love him. I want to think that this was all a horrible mistake, that we can get past it. It hurts so much, and I want it to go away, to be with him. But... it goes beyond just what he said to me."

Albus nodded. "Revealing your diabetes? To do so would have been a major violation of your trust. I imagine that it hurts more to believe he could have done that to you than him pushing you away?"

"Exactly. Adding insult to injury, making it... worse." Remus looked down at the medal again, watching the light play over the bright gold as though he could divine from it an answer to all his fears. "I just... I can't believe he would do that. Even if he pushed me away - for whatever reason - I can't believe he would want to destroy me."

"There is the crux of the matter, dear boy," Albus said softly. "Do you believe he did it? If you trust your heart, I think you already know the answer to that. Follow your instincts, Remus... like skating, the risk is tremendous, but the reward..." Reaching out, Albus brushed one finger across the glittering surface of the medal. "The reward could be more than you ever dreamed."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus sat in the living room of his flat, a glass of bourbon in his hand. He stared at the television even though it wasn't on at the moment, his mind as dark and empty as the screen. 

It had been two days since he had won the World Championship, yet he was behaving nothing like a champion. He had granted no interviews, greeted no smiling fans, signed no autographs. Instead of enjoying his victory, perhaps traveling a bit to celebrate, he had instead fled back to London, holing up in his den like a cornered wolf, watching for something that he was afraid might never come.

He had taken a huge gamble, but he couldn't even begin to hope that it might pay off. He had done what he had to do, and now there was an _emptiness_ in his life, waiting to be filled. Despite the incredible experience of his long program, Severus didn't even feel like skating. He knew that nothing in his life would ever rival that sublime experience again, and he wanted to hold that pinnacle in his mind for a while longer to savor it. Even if he never went near the ice again in his life, he could cherish the memory that for those incredibly perfect few minutes, he had been the absolute best skater he had ever been. The best in the entire world.

A knock on the door caused him to blink, and he glanced at the clock, surprised at how many hours had slipped away. It was probably a reporter who had finally tracked him down, and Severus grimaced in distaste. He would never like the press, even if now reporters thought he was a bit of a puzzle, the "risk taker" who had triumphed over everything, the bad boy who had made good, had done _two_ things that no one else had ever done before. The problem was that they had no idea why he had really done it, that it hadn't been for the gold at all. 

In reality, from the moment Severus had stepped out on the ice, he had fully intended to lose.

By changing his program, by losing and doing it to their song, Severus had hoped to prove to Remus that he mattered more to him than any medal or title. The irony, of course, was that Severus - either by training or some damnable instinct for survival - had managed to incorporate all the required elements into his impromptu program, and done it well enough to secure the gold. He had been stunned, and his first reaction had been to shun the medal. But he had accepted it, then done the only thing he could think of that might prove that he hadn't planned to win it after all - he asked Albus to give it to Remus.

The knock on the door came again, louder this time, and Severus grumbled as he put down his glass and stood, grimacing at the way his muscles had gone stiff from sitting too long in one position. If it was a reporter, Severus would send her packing with a warning not to trouble him again. It wouldn't do any good, but perhaps a good tongue lashing would help Severus release some of the tension that coiled within him like a spring.

Stomping his way to the door, Severus undid the boltsand yanked the door open. "I don't way anyone bothering me, how many times do I..."

"Hullo, Severus," Remus Lupin said, smiling as Severus gaped at him in surprise. "If this isn't a good time, I can come back later."

Afraid that his eyes were deceiving him, Severus stepped back without speaking, mind racing was he waited to see what Remus would do. He didn't want to admit that even though he felt a surge of hope at Remus' presence, he was still on guard, the protective habits of too many years forcing him to watch and wait to see what Remus would do. The ball was, quite literally, in Remus' court, and Severus had no idea if Remus might not be there only out of some desire for closure, and not the good kind.

Severus closed and locked the door, before turning around to face Remus again. He wasn't aware of the vulnerability in his eyes, of the way he stood poised as though for flight. If asked, Severus would have thought he was quite aloof and detached, as though he had merely welcomed a stranger into his home rather than the man he loved. But all his hopes and doubts were there on his face, and it was these that Remus answered with swift action, pushing Severus back against the door and sealing their lips together in a deep, possessive kiss.

At first Severus went rigid with surprise, wondering if it were an attack, a payback for that long ago incident in the shower. But Remus' kiss, although greedy, was somehow also oddly tender, his arms encircling Severus' waist to pull their bodies together in an embrace that was as comforting as it was arousing. Severus' resistance fled as pure, aching need chased it away, and he kissed Remus back with breathless hunger, parting his lips with a moan as he buried his hands in the soft waves of Remus' hair.

As though of one mind, they moved toward the bedroom, hands removing clothing that was dropped unheeded to the floor before caressing heated bare skin with eager desire. They were bare by the time they finally fell on the bed, even though it seemed as though their mouths had never parted at all along the way.

No words were spoken between them, but there were gasps and groans and eager whimpers of pleasure as they both sated a need for touch that had been too long denied. Their bodies strained toward each other, seeking relief, until Remus rolled away, onto his back, opening his arms and beckoning Severus with a sultry smile. Severus drew in a deep breath, but hesitated for a moment before coming to a swift decision. 

Bending down, he kissed Remus deeply to soothe the look of panic that had flared in his golden eyes, pulling back only when Remus' lips relaxed and became pliant beneath his. He gazed down at Remus soberly, twining his fingers once more in Remus' hair. "I want to do something...something to prove that I am yours. Something I have never done with anyone before."

Remus' eyes widened and his lips parted in a gasp of disbelief. "Severus... you don't have to. I trust you, I understand... You sent me the medal, and I..."

Severus raised his free hand, laying a finger across Remus' lips to still them. "I know. I _want_ to. Please, Remus. I _need_ to do this. Words of affection are... hard for me. I can't say I will always be able to tell you how I feel about you, but I can show you."

Remus' eyes looked suspiciously moist, but he nodded, and Severus rolled to one side, lying back and opening his arms much as Remus had done. Then Remus was there, over him, lips and tongue and teeth worshipping Severus' body, making Severus writhe and gasp at the intensity of it. Remus murmured to him, soft words of praise and adoration, and Severus felt himself opening to it, not only physically but emotionally. He moaned at the sensation of Remus preparing him, then cried out incoherently as Remus possessed him, filled him, claimed Severus' body with all the fire and glory that had already taken Severus' heart.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, dancing to a rhythm that only the two of them could hear. Remus chanted Severus' name like a litany, like a prayer, and Severus answered back, clinging to Remus as the world seemed to fly away from his body and words of love escaped his lips. He arched up, his body unable to contain all the ecstasy that consumed it, and burst into a billion points of perfect light. Remus joined him a moment later, and together they rode out the blissful storm, holding and anchoring each other until they were safely back again.

Severus clung to Remus, holding him tight against his chest, melting into the mattress with a boneless feeling of satiation. Now that he had given himself to Remus he no longer felt the same intensity of fear. His doubts and worries were eased by Remus' possession, the act of having given of himself more completely than he had ever done before and having Remus accept it with eagerness and joy giving him an inner peace he never thought he would know.

A soft sigh escaped him, a happy one, and he felt more than heard Remus' chuckle. "You still don't talk much in bed, do you?" Remus asked, lifting his head. Severus saw the fond amusement in his golden eyes, and scowled back, although there was no heat in it.

"I don't need to chatter to express things," he said, and Remus laughed outright before claiming Severus' lips in a kiss that started out playful but became something deeper - gentle and loving and edged with lingering hunger. When Remus pulled back, Severus lifted a hand, brushing his fingers down Remus' cheek. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Remus replied softly. "I... I love you, Severus. I want to be with you, always. Is that all right? I'm not misreading what you meant with your program, with the medal, am I?"

"No, you're not," Severus replied. He felt a twisting in his chest at how close he had come to messing it all up, to losing the one thing in the world that mattered to him, mattered even more than a medal, than being the best: Remus. But he needed to make things clear. "I'm not an easy person to be with. I can't promise not to yell, or snap, or have a temper. I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry... I can't promise that I will never hurt you, but I promise I won't do it on purpose, not ever again."

Remus' smile was beatific, with a hint of mischief in it. "I love your passion, Severus, all of it. I can't promise that I'll be easy to live with, either, and I will no doubt get on your nerves and fuss after you and drive you mad. But I promise I will never mistrust you, not ever again."

Severus blinked. "You trust me? After all that? Then you believe, really believe, that I didn't leak it to the press about your diabetes?"

"I thought, at first, that you could have done it," Remus responded slowly. He sighed, giving Severus a pensive look, as though afraid Severus would be angry. "I didn't want to believe it, and once I finally got over all my shock and hurt from everything, I realized that I truly didn't believe it. I understand why you pushed me away now - because you love me. By that same token, I knew that even though you might push me away to protect yourself, you wouldn't betray me." He paused, his expression lightening. "God, that doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"No," Severus replied, reaching out to trace the smiling curve of Remus' lips. "But if you want to be nonsensical about things, I'm not going to question it. It's my good fortune, after all." He scowled, feeling an upwelling of intense anger. "But if I ever get my hands on the bastard that did leak it, I'll kill him."

"Er..." Remus flushed suddenly. "I found out who did it. It was an accident, really. An unfortunate one, but..."

"Accident?" Severus' eyebrows climbed to his hairline. "How in the bloody hell is something like that an _accident_?"

Remus looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Well... he was drunk, you see, and he was upset..."

"He?" Severus echoed, frowning in confusion. "He, who?" Comprehension dawned, and he ground his teeth. "Black? It was Black, wasn't it? That bloody bastard, I'll..."

Remus reached down and put a hand over Severus' mouth. Severus scowled at him, but held his tongue. "Please, Severus, for my sake, let it go. He didn't mean to hurt me. He was upset because I told him I loved you, and then I punched him. When he got back to London, he and James went out drinking. They're hockey stars, you know, on the team that's going to the championships. A reporter was following them around, and at some point when Sirius was drunk and bemoaning everything to James, the reporter overheard. I'm just thankful that the diabetes was the only thing that the press got out of the conversation... if the reporter had picked up on _us_ , had outed us as homosexual, it could have been much worse."

Severus wasn't mollified, and he felt no sympathy for Black at all. Someday the bastard would get what was coming to him, but he wasn't worth interrupting this precious reconciliation before. Black would be there later, and Severus would see that he paid.

"All right," he said grudgingly when Remus lifted his hand away, before smirking slightly. "Since you punched him. And I'm sure hearing about your feelings for me was punishment as well. I hope he chokes on it. But if he ever touches you again..." 

"No one is going to touch me, except you," Remus replied softly, then smiled. "But I warn you, I like to be touched a great deal. Constantly, even. Do you think you can handle that? I am just as demanding in my own way as you are. Think you are up for the challenge?"

"Up for it?" Severus asked haughtily, wrapping his arms around Remus and giving him a smug look. "I'll have you know I'm a champion. I'll have you singing my praises, Lupin, and awarding me gold medals for my performance."

"Is that so?" Remus asked, laughing happily. "I'd say that last performance was a five-point-nine, Mr Snape. Care to go for the six-oh?"

Severus did.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

EPILOGUE:

_Two Years Later_

"Silver is wonderful, you know," Remus said, smiling at the scowl on Severus' face. "Olympic silver, at that. I'm very proud of you, Severus... and you will always be a champion to me."

"Bah," Severus said, waving a hand as he dropped his coat on the sofa of their suite in the Olympic village. "If I had gone for the quad..."

"If you'd gone for the quad, you might have won. You also might have fallen," Remus said judiciously, wrapping his arms around Severus and smiling in encouragement. 

"You're worse than Albus and Minerva," Severus complained, even as he returned Remus' embrace, nuzzling his nose against Remus' ear. "And _they_ became worse after they married, hard as that is to believe. Slave-drivers, both of them. And totally against improvisation. I could have done the quad, but the damned ice was too slow."

There's always four years from now, you know," Remus replied soothingly, sliding his hands under Severus' shirt and running them caressingly over the smooth muscles of Severus' back.

Severus grumbled, but Remus knew his partner too well to believe there was any heat behind it. "Are you sure you want to do it? To be my coach?"

"Of course I do," Remus replied, kissing Severus briefly. "I'm done with competing. And with Albus and Minerva retiring, _someone_ has to keep you in line. It's not like there are many you'll listen to, anyway. I'm content - I made it to the Olympics, but now I've skated my last program for judges, and it's really nothing but a relief."

"If you're sure," Severus said, tilting his head back as Remus began to trail nipping kisses along the smooth, pale column of his throat. "I'm a selfish bastard; I'm glad you'll be coaching me. Almost as glad as I am that you won't be competing against me any longer."

"Git," Remus murmured affectionately, before pulling back to grin at Severus. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were serious."

"GAH!" Severus replied, giving Remus a mock glare. "Don't say that - I don't even like to hear that name in jest..."

"Sorry." Remus' grin was unrepentant. "Now... I believe we had a bet, didn't we? Whoever finished higher got to claim a forfeit?"

"Yes," Severus replied, shivering in delicious anticipation. "You know the only thing as good as being an Olympic Gold medalist?"

"What's that?" 

"Getting to shag an Olympic Gold medalist," Severus replied, smirking evilly.

"Oh, yeah? Well, what if this Olympic Gold medalist wants to be the one doing the shagging to a certain Olympic Silver medalist?" Remus asked, sliding one hand down between their bodies to squeeze and fondle.

"Then I'd say the Gold trumps the Silver... hands down," Severus gasped.

"Hands down, bottoms up," Remus replied, laughing in delight as he pulled his partner, his lover, his soulmate toward the bedroom. The beauty of it was that no matter which of them claimed the forfeit, they were both winners.


End file.
